Ping-Pong
The ball hits the table
Like a ballerina on her toes
Then leaps over the low net
To my dad's side of the ping-pong table
Ping-Pong
The humming buzz of the radio
Mimics the sound
Of the lone mosquito circling my head
With a flash and a serve as strong as lead
My dad backhands a tricky shot
A tennis player at his best
Ping-Pong
My foam Adidas flip-flops
Are a soft pillow for my toes
As I switch from right to left
In an intricate chase
For the lightning fast ping-pong ball
As my dad serves another match
Ping-Pong
The endless soothing rhythm of each bounce
As the ball jumps over the net
Makes a soft lullaby that I will never forget
Thank you, Dad, for playing ping-pong with me
When I couldn't hit or run
For any other ball
Thank you for
Ping-Pong