sent goose bumps
down my spine
as I awaited the sun.
In the meantime women golfers
zipped up jackets and
buttoned up sweaters.
Warm ups ensued
stretching backs and limbs
limbering joints by
swinging Callaway drivers at fallen leaves.
Wedges pitched dimpled white balls
across fairways and onto putting greens
abundant with 4” holes and tiny metal flags
where we practiced putting
testing stroke, speed, and accuracy
while others gossiped and
analyzed the dark sky
gazing at the
flat gray mass for
of hot air.
It occurs to me That I require an ideal To summit these peaks. Something more than a patch. My tenacity shouts above my perception Shooting ...
**This poem was inspired by a T-shirt design—I bought the shirt! I am also trying to convince certain people of the importance of POETR...
***A prose poem written in pidgin english Da gross cockroach militia stays booming in da plumbing in da face of mass killings in Kaneohe ...
Fresh pine scent captures holiday spirit. Santa’s little helpers burn clean fuel. Christmas cheer expires on December 26th. Cards and let...