A Desert Oasis
GOLFING ON ONE'S BIRTHDAYPlans were made for morning golf.
Came next day, and we enrolled
into that strange order of protocol
where each of us obliterates
our intimacy of ball and tee,
creating a vector distance
with smooth and fluid stroke.
Gradually gathering momentum,
we recognize our oasis:
the hedge of trees,
the necklace of aquamarine,
the expanse of sand;
flying hymenoptera
with holographic wings
in and out among the thistles
where we golf.
We come here like our ancestors
who walked from Asia across
the Bering Strait revealed,
stopping on the way to golf
the neo-ice age course;
this migration we gladly trek
from sun-baked streets
to this implacable
and palpable green.
Silence and friendship, sun and water;
and golf is the ephemera bloom.
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