Golf City

up the coast from here: The
Open, scorched grass gone
yellow, no water across
all the land and hosepipe bans

the sun unrelenting, I imagine
my garden far north, greener -
I think rain came there -
but the flowers remain unfed

slept late today abed -
hope for energy and
movement to help my
body shed its weight

nothing is too late
to the last breath
nothing too late for
infinite regret

Collected Works
Return to Collections all
next poem