POETRY Reading: The Sadness of my Father’s Golf Bag, by Linda O’Connell

Performed by Val Cole

The Sadness of My Fathers Golf Bag

When he died, the bag was so sad.
All the days of witnessed joy
had gone. You try to explain to the bag
that he’s not coming back.
You tell the 4 iron to talk about it and
let out the grief like a crisp shot.
That sound that he loved so much.
You say to the glove in the zippered pocket-
who wrapped around the greatest lefty of all time,
you say, “you were so lucky.”
Trying to console the driver with
his deep sigh, you explain
he is gone and no one can tell us where.
You describe dying to the putter,
like a downhill 4 putt-
then you cry and say how much you miss him-
and the tiny knitted head cover.

© LRO 2020

Author: poetryfest

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