once we were kings
we’d play our game on squash courts
racquets swooshing down upon the ball
hitting the cement floor then the wall
as we’d build up a sweat.
out on the gangway a gaggle of geese
prevalent amongst them, a queen,
classic nose turned up amidst the mesh
of giggling girls so fresh
with limbs aquiver at the sight of us.
as we’d amble on by they’d swoon and sigh
all except the one with the braided head
she’d roll up the sleeves to her corduroy jacket
bring to bear her very own racquet
beat us in the morass of our own game.
they’d swarm on away from the courts then
in the shrinkage that followed
we’d gaze on their backs all sondering
at the mesh being worthy of pondering:
we were kings once.