A Long Drive Poem by Francie Lynch
A Long Drive
Lilian hit eighty-five,
Shot nine holes for forty-eight;
Drives her car not to be late.
Man alive, she's eighty-five.
That's not far off, Bro,
A few thousand weeks,
I ride my Shadow,
Shoot thirty-eight.
That's not far off, Sis,
A few thousand hits,
So I'm shooting for eighty-six,
Playing with my balls and sticks.
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: aging,golf,motorcycle,weeks
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11/3/2025 6:01:48 PM # 1.0.0
