A Found Day

When you know that golf
inches toward the end
of the season
When you think that this
might be the last game
of the season
Then a day unseasonably warm
with a robust sun is a gift
Then each drive and
every shot is special
And when you dig
in a leaf pile for
a drive that drifted
And when you lose a ball
in the slant of light
you don't mind
You just hope for one more day