On the white baseline

Stepping foot onto the court.
The feeling of sand brushing against my stiff Asics tennis shoes.
The air was still bitterly cold.
The white breath disappears into the sky.
The          gum tree leaves          fall onto          the synthetic grass.                               
The sky is painted with aqua-blue.
The sun peeking through the misty clouds from the east.
The chirping of the noisy myna nesting on the tree.
The fluffy tennis ball rubbed against my fingers.
The moment is silent.

          Dunlop ball
The                               moves up the air in a perfect line.
The Head tennis racket slams the ball.
The booming sound enters my ear.

                                                                                      s a n d
The ball bounces on the other side, flicking the                        in the air.
The ball lands short into the court.
The racket swings through the ball to finish the rally off.
I go back to the baseline.