Oak Hill Golf Club
A sheet laid across the lawn,
A stolen bottle of wine gripped to either your lips or mine,
And a backpack full of life’s finest pleasures.
We passed the trespassing sign that never stopped us before,
And I didn’t really know what made that night particularly memorable,
But I do know it was the day I was gifted my freedom.
The gloom of the night held a warm blue aura,
With stars like spilled salt all over the sky,
And a faint breeze as a fine garnish to this perfect scene.
Nothing was really the same after that night,
When we just let our thoughts flow like a stream and
Ripple across our bloodstreams cultivating our vital intimacy.
I remember when the bottle was parched you asked,
Should we go now?
Why would we ever do that?