Putting
maybe it’s
the rhythm
and the repetition of it
maybe it’s
the simplicity
and the complexity of it
maybe it’s
the timing
and the precision of it
maybe it’s
the alignment
and the gravity of it
maybe it’s
the quietness
and the pace of it
maybe it’s
the feel
and the feeling of it
maybe it’s
the internal
and the balance of it
I don’t know
quite
but I’m at peace
when I’m out there
putting
TL
Ellipses
there is no
period at the end
of your sentence
it is a story
that goes on
and on
and on
…
chapters change
becoming more
becoming less
essays condense
into a single line
cast out
words are not wasted
thrown away
your mind expands
with each experience
what it brings
what it takes
the stitches and rips
the clay spins
and spins
the beauty beheld
is basic
the way a child sees it
what is felt
is carried over
like clouds
in a square window
that move
in the eyes
of those left dying
in a bed
somebody else died in
and the sheets are washed
again
and again
and again
…
clean like a cloud
after it’s rained
and spring has come
all green
a nest with three eggs
life opens
again
and again
and again
…
TL
Golf
slopes of green
waving by
was a backseat window-watcher
drawn to the pathways
wondering where they led …
what was up over that hill
it was the closest i ever got
to golf
in my 30s, I would get out of the car
and walk those pathways
listening to my music
then get back in the car
and drive away
and repeat the next day
it never crossed my mind
to actually play
just loved being out there
on the greens
in the quiet of the morning ray
then I turned 40
and it was like something in me
woke up
golf didn’t care
if I was 40
didn’t care if I knew nothing about the game
didn’t care if I was a stay-at-home-mom
didn’t care if my career was over
didn’t care if I was still struggling with my past
golf didn’t give a damn!
bout any of that
after hitting nothing but dirt for so long
I’ll never forget
the first time I ever stood
on the hill
and didn’t feel like a fool
‘cause the lessons
Jimmy gave
and I got into position
with my used Callaway driver
and rifled the ball
like I never thought I could
it was like electricity coursing through me
and I just stood there
up on that hill
and felt the drops
roll down
TL
Settled
grains
in the sea
fall like snow
in a glass globe
somebody picked up
once
and shook
then quietlike
the ground
put it back
on the shelf
where it was
TL
Doorway
he held
her hand
like a hinge
does a door
to open
and close
TL
In the Stillness
not a drop
on the pond
smooth and bare
no skipping stones
or loss of hair
no casting out
or reeling in
it is quiet here
like early morning
a butterfly makes no sound
as she flutters
all around
TL