Against Golf
Golf is the enemy of joy
but hit
the sweet spot one time
you’re hooked for life—shank, waggle and roll.
You buy white golf shoes,
learn to talk “golf”.
Buy a big house
on the golf course—you’ll be sorry
don’t do it—don’t be cruel
you’ll get the yips!
A new driver every year,
thousands of dollars for golf balls and putters.
The search goes on….
Yet there is a purity
to golf. And a beautiful nonsense.
The old course near my house went bankrupt
in the Great Recession and became a county park.
My neighbor told me about the 18th hole—
a long par 5—downhill, dogleg right.
You can see it in your mind.
He eagled that hole!
The course closed years ago
but for him, he described his 3 shots
in great detail, like they happened just yesterday.
Now deceased, his ghost walks the abandoned course.
Tom Snyder: Collected Poems 