2/16/16
The picture next to his left ear,
I slowly remove, afraid to spill
the water from the waves
crashing Pebble Beach golf.
He smiled, one last time,
probably knowing, he can play golf
with God, everyday.
I emptied his golf bag,
wiping each club, slowly,
waiting for them to tell, each
story with the sand, the loose
fallen leaves, the freshly clipped
grass, and to smell my father's
sweat mixed with his excitement,
watching the ball roll into the hole,
rest in peace.
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