Game, Set, Match

Advantage us.
Love you.
You were no match for most.
On courts of clay (and even grass),
you earned the right to boast.

You showed your colleagues
and the world
your skill and dignity.
Your racquet wasn't just a game.
You gave us cause to see ...

how tennis is so much
like life.
How every day's like court.
How trials judge ones discipline.
How serving's more than sport.

With aching back
and aging legs,
you found the means to stand.
Your grit and grace (each year on end)
was hard to understand.

Your faults were few,
but not your fans
(who marvel at your aim).
They know without you at the net,
this game won't seem the same.

And so it's fully
within bounds
to leave our shoes unlaced.
It is our way of saying thanks.
No one can take your place.

The Hunter's Been Hunted
Bidding Goodbye to Steve Irwin

Down under the thunder
can barely be heard.
"G'day mate!" is whispered.
It's really absurd.

Australians are mourning.
They're bludgeoned by grief.
A mate loved by millions
was lost near the Reef.

The crocks, too, and gators
are wondering why
this one they respected
has caused them to cry.

We all, if we're honest,
have reason to grieve.
The hunter's been hunted.
May God save you, Steve.