As I was lining up my shot

Lying one on the back fringe of the green

Maybe thirty feet from the pin,

A mockingbird which had been serenading our threesome

From the trees around this green

Flew right past me, warbling as it flew  

Steve Lessard

Also lying one on the back fringe

A similar distance from the flag

(Tim Satterly, also on the fringe, had closest to the pin

For the tournament, on this designated hole, earlier,

As marked by a makeshift sign),

Turned and said something like

"Maybe that's an omen,"

"Bird..."  

I said something like "Could be" ‑‑

I would have to chip in to make birdie  

I chipped onto the green

Maybe midway to the flag  

The ball kept rolling

Momentarily veering slightly

To one side of the line to the stick

Then to the other side  

The ball kept rolling

Right up to the cup,

Still having a chance  

It rolled in

Giving me a birdie  

John Kalli couldn't believe it  

I just walked over to Steve and shook his hand