Life on the Fairway

Check out my latest YouTube video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e4sfxAFCf-I

Late March. Frost bites the edges of the fairway.

Saved my cash, joined the cheapest course in town.

Promised myself �" and God �" I’d walk, not ride.

I need the exercise,

the pull cart creaks like my spine, but I push on.

Clubs in the bag.

Cold chill in my palms.

Thinking of the shots I’ve blown in life,

the ones you never get back.

Each hole is a little miracle,

a chance to screw up less.

Each swing, a test I shouldn’t fail twice.

Balls slice, hooks land wrong,

I duff it, hit it thick�"M**********r!

I take a deep breath, a sacred pause,

and move on.

Some days the course shows no mercy.

Grass sways under the wind,

and I mumble a pathetic excuse.

It’s early in the season.

I’m a little rusty.

I see the flag on the par three,

leaning, stubborn like a toy soldier.

I remember that even the rigid can adjust.

Even fools survive.

I think this one’s a nine iron.

Choke up a little.

In the sunset of life,

violet and fiery orange at heart,

I feel the weight of wasted swings.

Springs and summers gone bad,

one after another,

whiskey in hand,

frequent flyer miles

through detox and psych wards,

choices carved scars I can’t erase.

But in this sublime game of golf,

there’s always the next hole,

a chance to learn,

to make the subtle changes,

to lay up instead of attacking the green.

I tee it up again.

Swing.

Keep my eye on the ball,

that perfect ting, that heavenly sound.

Correction, patience, grit.

Par is perfection, I aim higher.

Learning fast, slow, always hard,

hole by hole.

The last stop creeps closer

with every crooked shot.

Author's Note

I recently posted a new long-form poetry reading featuring a sneak peek from my upcoming book, Searching for Nod.

Watch it here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e4sfxAFCf-I

📖 You can also find all my books on Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/stores/Thomas-W.-Case/author/B0CL2RKDGX

— Thomas W. Case

Reviews

[Relic]

I tried hitting the ball for practice years ago and it sliced to the left every time. Then the last time I went to the range to hit a basket of balls with some friends, the very last shot I made started going straight....then we had to go. I guess it was a small sign. In life we have to struggle before we can get anywhere....with anything. Maybe your poem said that in a subtle way. Good one Thomas.

[Thomas W Case]

Thank you, my friend.

[red93]

Golf and Life - excellent exploration of how they are related. Exceptional ✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

[Thomas W Case]

Thank you, my friend.

[Soren]

Thomas I take this for a metaphor of life itself. It speaks to all of us and our wild swings corrections and aim for that last hole. The hole sounds so final as all of ours will be. Very nicely done my friend

[Thomas W Case]

Thank you, much appreciated.

[Soren]

Most Welcome Thomas