Eden in GreenA Poem by Thomas W CaseCheck out my you tube channel where I read my poetry.In winter's depth, I dream in green, not the kind that doesn’t last, not money, not bottle glass. My needs are supplied, no envy. I mean fairways" so fresh and clean they feel forgiven, redeemed from blizzards. Greens rolled smooth, like God painted them Himself. There’s something holy about it. The long walk. The quiet before the putt. The perfect sound of a drive. The way the ball takes off" heaven-bound, trying to escape the chaos. The lake on the sixth hole. Birdie. Bogey. Eagle. A strange gospel, spoken in hushed fall colors, curses, whispers. Learned by faith and feel, not belief. The clubhouse feels like a church. Coffee instead of confession. Sunlight dapples the carts, lined up like pews. Sparrows, robins, and squirrels watch in reverence from oak and elm trees. Beneath December skies, my brother practices in his room, constructing half-mad contraptions, artificial grass mats. He swings the nine-iron, the hybrids, at ghosts and plastic balls, grinning like a kid caught with a girly magazine, like a man who knows spring is real" even when it seems to take forever. I used to wait for liquor stores to open. Now I wait for April, for Eden, cut low, shining beneath that beautiful sun. I long for that first step onto the course, even the drive to Oak Hills, to see the diligence, the discipline of the groundskeeper. I know staying sober is hard work, earned one day at a time. If there’s a heaven for the redeemed, it’s a par-3, nine-hole course, freshly mowed, with an eternity of possibility. © 2026 Thomas W CaseAuthor's Note
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9 Reviews Added on February 9, 2026 Last Updated on February 9, 2026 AuthorThomas W CaseClear Lake, IAAboutThomas W. Case was born in Oxnard. He has published 3 volumes of poetry. The Bullfrog Dreams of Flying, Artichokes, Avocados, and Van Gogh, and Seedy Town Blues. He has won several poetry contests. Hi.. more.. |


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