Poem of the Month

A new poem will be placed here each month, usually from one of my published collections.

My poem for August 2023 

Golfers, 1970

As if it were a rite de passage he took me out
to the once-elegant hotel at the end of the street
to share with him my first pint (little did he know).

Empty on Monday night, just us and the shout
of two men with an iron, a small ball at their feet
putted into a jar on its side with a “Whoah!”

As the balls rolled along the carpeted floor
we talked of – what? – something time
has long taken from us and stowed

in its dark subterranean store:
the white ball clacking, the chime
of a lobby clock, the pint swallowed.