It Feels Good

low feathery clouds, cast a shadow
drooping trees hugging the periphery
greens, green grass blankets the plains
on the corner beneath the biggest tree
i sit there, dreaming, writing poetry
when my mind closes the screen
i hit a golf ball to the far end
sometimes i miss, i don't know
so i'll try again, this one for the show.

walking on the rough, looking for my ball clover
white flowers, yellow prairie flowerets
grass a shoe deep, wet and very thick
i use my seventh iron as probing stick
a small greenish frog stands tall
blinks her eyes, she thinks i'm a fool
squirrels run around thinking my ball is a nut
i can't find it, they know where it is at
i don't really mind i have a bag full of that
cars are passing, runners trudging

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poem by Manonton Dalan
Added by Poetry Lover
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