Poem: Comfortless
By Edgar A. Guest As found in Harvey Penick’s Little Red Book I found him underneath a tree“And what is wrong,” quoth I,“That you so solemn seem to beUnder this summer sky?” “The birds above you gayly sing,The wildflowers brightly bloom,What is this awful, horrid thingWhich seeks to seal your doom?” Round the children romp and play,The gentle breezes blow,Sad stranger, tell to me I prayThe burden of your woe. “I do not see the sunbeams dance,Nor hear the birds,” said he.“There’s something faulty with my stance,I can’t get off the tee.” “All day I’ve shanked my mashie shot,My putts … Continue reading Poem: Comfortless