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Papa’s Last Provisional

We’ve signed
         a non-binding contract.

You’ve agreed to remain
         cremated. I’ve agreed

to spit-shine your irons,
         the sand wedge

all hickory and pre-recession.
         Later I’ll understand

I swing far too hard.
         Now I am in a cart

somewhere amid a
         triangle of yardage markers.

Marker A is where
         even the regulars

routinely fly the green.
         Marker B is rusted out,

our next-round antique.
         Marker C shouldn’t even

be here, its notches in
         the shape of familiar

tumors; Standing over my
         second ball I can’t

imagine connecting and
         knowing where it’s going.

KG Newman is a sports writer for The Denver Post. His first two collections of poems, While Dreaming of Diamonds in Wintertime and Selfish Never Get Their Own, are available on Amazon. Follow him on Twitter @KyleNewmanDP.