Caddying

There is something relaxing about caddying,
the constant banter and joking with the member,
as your feet sink into the lush zoysia grass, clear
blue skies overhead without a cloud in sight,
something relaxing about the lazy summer breeze
that ruffles the hair protruding from your cap, until you forget
all the summer work that lies untouched in your backpack, the
unreasonable demands of your parents, the car to repair
and its insurance to pay, that you use to visit your girlfriend in the
hospital, until you forget that you’re just an asset to the members, something
that they can show off to their friends,
a status symbol, that they don’t really care that they just
lost a thousand dollars on a single stroke, and
that they’ll keep doing this
over and over and over again.