Death is my caddy and the others
in my party don't seem to notice.
He proposes the seven iron
as I play under par.
While I get no holes-in-one,
Death applauds my long putts.
I can feel Death's hot eyes
as I wedge out of a sand trap.
Death chuckles when I
murder the ball.
Death kindly offers advise
on how I can improve my swing.
I fish some other's lost
Titleist from the water hazard.
Lightning strikes me down
as I tee off on the 13th hole.
I will wait for my companions
at Gabriel's clubhouse bar.
Death Is My Caddy
by Steve Bull, November 2, 2011
for Bert Fraser
Death and Dying Conference
sponsored by AtlantiCare
at Stockton College
1 comment:
Love and fear, you do it well. We laugh.
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