Ode to Frisbee Golf

A free verse poem about sports frustrations

The cold wind blows through the grass

Startling goose bumps from my flesh

While the bright sun stares frozen from the sky



I know that once my adrenaline peaks

I will feel the cold no longer

The heat will rush through my veins



Taking my stance, I inhale deep

Lunging forward, my wrist flicks

The sun glints off the disk as it flies



Too shortly it comes down

Not where I would've had it

Anger blossoms in my cheeks



I run to where the disk fell

Stoop to retrieve it with red hands

Maybe I can still save the par



Another toss that frustrates me

But what fun is a game

Without any bit of challenge?