A Poem for Alan (and myself)

The Sometime Sportsman Greets the Spring

_____________

When winter's glaze is lifted from the greens,

And cups are freshly cut, and birdies sing,

Triumphantly the stifled golfer preens

In cleats and slacks once more, and checks his swing.

___________

This year, he vows, his head will steady be,

His weight-shift smooth, his grip and stance ideal;

And so they are, until upon the tee

Befall the old contortions of the real.

-John Updike