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Night Golf - Poem by Billy Collins

I remember the night I discovered, lying in bed in the dark, that a few imagined holes of golf worked much better than a thousand sheep, that the local links, not the cloudy pasture with its easy fence, was the greener path to sleep. How soothing to stroll the shadowy fairways, to skirt the moon-blanched bunkers and hear the night owl in the woods. Who cared about the score when the club swung…
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