Addressed the ball. Feet paralleled
Knuckles counted. Fingers linked
The face. The spot. The grip.
I long for a straight and arching stroke
A triple bounce then chip and putt…
Victorious walk back off the green,
To smile, and wave my hat.
I swipe and miss.
Slice into a bush
Then spot my ball and hack.
A chip, it flies…. then
Hits a tree and disappears…
Sandblasted I top the ridge,
It’s made the green.
Too hard, too soft, too hard, it’s in!
Ten. I’m getting better