A Sudden Death

I could see her every morning

through my bedroom’s window

while feeding my newborn.

She would wear the same

set of grey clothes

white hair brushed back tightly

and her eighty years of age

swaying gently through the garden

she would hold the same needly metal brush

that resembled a club of golf

and would stroke it back and forth,

slowly through the fallen apples

one by one

gathered to a pile of red green and yellow brown

like a set of billiard balls

she herself standing

as a golf player

beating time to its unbeatable zone

the 19th hole.