Photo by Daniel Ward |
The Errani-Browning Riff
How do I drop thee? Let me count the ways.
I drop thee to the depth and breadth and height
My racket can reach, when feeling out of sorts
For the ends of lobbing and ideal grace.
I drop thee to the level of every game's
Most quiet slide, by sun and stadium-light.
I drop thee freely, as women strive for rights;
I drop thee purely, as they return my second serves.
I drop thee with the passion put to use
In my old beliefs, and with my Fed Cup's faith.
I drop thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost ranking. I drop thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my career; and, if God choose,
I shall but drop thee better after Charleston.
I drop thee to the depth and breadth and height
My racket can reach, when feeling out of sorts
For the ends of lobbing and ideal grace.
I drop thee to the level of every game's
Most quiet slide, by sun and stadium-light.
I drop thee freely, as women strive for rights;
I drop thee purely, as they return my second serves.
I drop thee with the passion put to use
In my old beliefs, and with my Fed Cup's faith.
I drop thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost ranking. I drop thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my career; and, if God choose,
I shall but drop thee better after Charleston.
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