The Golf Course In The Sky

As eighteen flags flew at half mast, and

Glasses were soberly raised high

The latest member was having a ball

At the golf course in the sky

 

Freed from the gravity of the situation

The first tee shot soared through space

Bringing a wondrous, beaming smile

To a kind, down to earth face

 

Surrounded by old club friends

Once thought never to be seen again

The infinity course beckoned ahead

Eighteen holes were for mere mortal men

Michael Ashby Poems

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