On Harbor Lights #3 today, I had 4 feet for a side-hill, right-to-left par.
I was confident, I’ve missed that putt many times before,
and indeed, this one hit the low-side-edge of the hole
and lipped-out on the high side, an inch away.
As I bent down to pick it up with an oath on my lips
the ball rolled back into the cup
And the tragedy of playing alone
on this sunny, Ides of November day
Is having no one to witness it.