The Nineteenth Hole.(Poem)

 
THE NINETEENTH HOLE 
 
   across the timber bridge 
   you've stopped in your tracks 
   beside the iron gate 
   to weigh the unstoppable sky 
   the cunning pace of clouds crossing 
   the ranges from south to north 
 
   your hand taps the upright 
   to confirm what we know, 
   every gesture anticipates 
   the roll call of rain 
   on the new tin roof 
 
   in the back paddock a deer 
   has slipped beneath the wire 
   and is mixing with the cattle 
   your horse rolls ...