As I was playing the usual Sunday eighteen with a few friends yesterday it began to rain.  Just a light rain of course, but it was enough to get me thinking about the quickest route to the clubhouse if the skies decided to open up.

Luckily for us the rain didn’t last long.  Nonetheless I still had it in my mind for the rest of the round that we might get delayed by the weather.

Through the rain we continue to play.

In the breeze the trees constantly sway.

We play our paths down the fairway.

The skies overhead turn a darker gray.

Through the downpour, the flag can barely be seen.

In the wind, we can just make out its lean.

We play our balls toward the green.

The skies overhead start to look mean.

Through the storm, we putt our balls.

In the gusts, our play just stalls.

We make our way off course, as heavy rain falls.

The storm overhead, over the course it sprawls.

The lightning and thunder crash over the course.

We watch from the clubhouse, as the rain pours.

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