Dawn Patrol, first of the season, at the Golf Course in the Valley of the Shadow of the Brewery, alone with my thoughts, too too alone …
Sing with me, won’t you?
Muscle memory, dim in corners of my mind
Misty sprinkler-spattered memories, like, dang …
Really? All those lessons?
All we spent on new equipment … for the way we swang.
Can it be that it was all so easy then
Or has age re-patterned every neuron?
If we had the chance to swing like that again
Tell me, could we?
Should we? Wouldn’t we hurt ourselves?
Hum with me, won’t you?
Hmm hmm hmmmmmm hmmm hmmm hmm hmm
Hmmm hmmm hmmmmm hmmmmm hmmmmmmmmmmm …