02-19-2014, 07:26 AM
As an avid golfer (and one taught by my father) I'm enjoying this immensely.
The direct personal address in stanza one contrasts well with the golf course as a setting that puts distance between people. Allied with your precise and cold descriptive style this creates an impersonal yet intimate tone.
The dewy morning, cold, clear water and "stroke of cold grace" images work beautifully.
On the other hand, I found the punctuation a challenge at a couple of points.
Minor opinions below.
thanks a thousand,
t
The direct personal address in stanza one contrasts well with the golf course as a setting that puts distance between people. Allied with your precise and cold descriptive style this creates an impersonal yet intimate tone.
The dewy morning, cold, clear water and "stroke of cold grace" images work beautifully.
On the other hand, I found the punctuation a challenge at a couple of points.
Minor opinions below.
thanks a thousand,
t
(02-19-2014, 05:08 AM)71degrees Wrote: A Preferred Lie
Of all the places I’ve never been
and all the people I’ve never met, Slightly cliched feeling in these opening lines, they don't really add to the poem.
these yards of water and grass I would prefer if you opened here
still connect me; it was you, father,
who taught me how to play the game.
Being here with you so many times,
and again, alone, last summer, dewy the first comma hindered the flow
mornings broken by cleated shoes; fine line
no matter how years end,
your game remained a closed stance,
a gentle draw off the tee. a great stanza throughout
Aside the green was a hand pump,
long since removed, water taken
from the Chippewa River, clear
and cold, seamless, almost invisible;
it was always the water, left of the green,
in front of the green, the swell and flow
of the river, that held us together.
I don’t brood much about score,
with all its work and walk,
golf is the only game; returning
to #4’s tee box five years after your death "number four's tee box" draws out this line without adding much, i think "the fourth" works better without asking much of a non golfing reader. your call obviously
is like a stroke of cold grace; among the call
of wood doves, I’m a man-child waiting
by the water, knowing it’s only a slow turn
away from your different kind of life. last four lines are beautifully wrought.

