Lecture Upon The Golf Course

A clod of clay
Upon my cleat
I must remove it
I must be neat
As I discard it
Upon the street
A funeral procession
Do I meet

Oh my word!
Who goes there?
Oh my word?
What do I care?

I have another round
Of golf to play
I'll think about death
Some other day

But the crowd of mourners
Goes on and on
The crowd of mourners
Goes hither and yon
And I am forced to wait
Until they pass
I am forced to wait
Upon this grass

And as I do
I tap my shoe
I twirl my club
I fix my 'do
I even pivot
To fix a divot
And as I bend down--

I see myself--

Beneath the ground

I am beneath the ground and I can't get up
I am beneath the ground and I can't get up
I am beneath the ground and I can't get up

But look!
Pushing through the earth--
There grows a brand new blade of grass!

Kevin Glavin, November 2010

(All apologies John Donne:)