Las Positas lay fallow on a Friday afternoon.
An abomination to the tennis gods.
Courts awaiting player and bouncing ball.
Air longing to be sucked into winded lung.
Soaring raptor looking down upon no one.
A parking lot naked without cars,
embarrassed as people drove by and gawked.
The atmosphere void of laughter and curse.
Denying courts access to their players is a cruel fate.
The nets frowned with sagging sadness.
Stillness robbed the courts’ raison de vivre.
No one was there to care.