| Disc Golf Off the platform concrete and gravel Wind in my face the sun beats down Into my eyes my arm outstretches Releases the disc Into the mocking wind changing the expected Course Lauging at my frustrations As it musses my hair into my eyes Brushing back my blonde strands the other hand shading back The sun waiting for the disc to land On the dry, bristled summer grass and the surrounding trees Clap their branches in the applause for the efforts... Pick up the remaining discs from the dirty ground Mud digs into my fingernails my sun-beaten body Trudges toward the disc The sweat from my brow begins to Drip down the bridge of my nose I wipe it away sweat and mud mix Streaked on my face No cares No worries Just wanna throw that damn disc Again. tamara shah June 5, 2005 |
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