She opts to close her eyes and
Explore the golf course.
She wants to sit in
The forest off the third fairway and let
Pine needles scratch her exposed legs.
She wants to wait for silence,
So the birds will feel
Comfortable to sing her a song.
She wants to inhale,
To breathe in the sweet smell of sap.
She wants to say it reminds her of butterscotch,
But she doesn’t want to stick
Out her tongue and confirm the taste.
She wants to wait for
Tree squirrels to nuzzle her nose,
Nestle their fur against her skin.
She wants them to bite
The budding hairs on her arm,
Lean their heads against her chest,
And confirm the drumbeat of her heart.
She needs to stay,
And absorb
Everything she can’t quite see.
Stephen Pisani is a MFA candidate in fiction at Adelphi University. His work has appeared in the Under Review, Blue Lake Review, and Light Poetry Magazine, among others. He spends his spare time working at a golf course where he watches people chase a little ball around a big patch of grass.