A Small Battlefield
They're not going to put a marker there as she is callously left to go to seed.
Sone enough she'll be covered with fresh houses, perhaps even fresh horses. Somewhere there will be a few golf balls, a beer can, a broken tee, and remnants of the irrigation system broken in the ground.
For now though, in her final spring, golf will still be played. At least one brave soul will fight with her one last time, hiking up and down her hills and gently curving shots in hope of landing a dimpled piece of rubber in a hole twice its size.
The battle won't be pleasant. Words will vibrates though poplars, pines, and laurel as perjoratives rain down from the sky as the simple act of swinging a golf club, swiping a forged piece of steel clean through a ball, launching it into a flight, will suddenly become a nearly impossible act common to each soul who has ever walked a course.
Sone enough she'll be covered with fresh houses, perhaps even fresh horses. Somewhere there will be a few golf balls, a beer can, a broken tee, and remnants of the irrigation system broken in the ground.
For now though, in her final spring, golf will still be played. At least one brave soul will fight with her one last time, hiking up and down her hills and gently curving shots in hope of landing a dimpled piece of rubber in a hole twice its size.
The battle won't be pleasant. Words will vibrates though poplars, pines, and laurel as perjoratives rain down from the sky as the simple act of swinging a golf club, swiping a forged piece of steel clean through a ball, launching it into a flight, will suddenly become a nearly impossible act common to each soul who has ever walked a course.
posted by Tim Hillman at 5:30 PM
3 Comments:
Boulder Hills ?
My parents use to be members... I had a lot of memories too...
(Should I digress?)
<(-.-)>
i beg to differ.
and by the way Arch-Fiend, if you want to post a comment, make it a good one.
(I can use 'digress' as much as I may like thank you very much.)
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