Sunday, January 19, 2020

Donal Mahoney


Waiting Room

First time seeing this doctor,
a specialist. Took a month
to get an appointment.
The waiting room’s packed.
I grab the last seat 
next to a lady in a wheelchair
knitting something,
perhaps for a grandchild. 

I pull out my cell phone 
like everyone else
but just to check messages,
not into games.  
No one’s looking at magazines,
it seems, any more.
It’s a cell phone world,
messages and Tic-Tac-Toe.

Half an hour later the lady 
stops knitting and whispers, 
“Sit back and relax, son. 
Life’s a waiting room.
We all have appointments.
Every name is called.
Even those who believe
no doctor is in."


Gardening in Autumn

She’s been a gardener for years
but more and more she brings 
flowers inside to arrange a

new garden on her mantel.
She’s in transition, she says,
but remembers summer fondly

in the autumn of her life
and sees winter coming so 
she gardens on the mantel now.

There, winter’s not a problem.
Her arrangement, she explains,
has a dahlia, last flower of summer, 

bold above hydrangea leaves
burning red in the midst of fall.
The mugo pine warns of winter.

The pine she’s had for 20 years, 
remembers planting it and hopes 
she’s an evergreen as well.


Tenement Scene, Havana, 1962

Woman in a window
brushing long hair madly
screams at a little boy

down in the street
licking an ice cream cone
some man gave him

some man she doesn’t know
not the man she’s 
brushing her hair for

who doesn't show up.
The man with the ice cream
may have to do.


Time Flies

Used to be
she’d tell him what
to get at the grocery store
and he always brought it back.
Now she makes a list.

Used to be
she knew by noon what
she’d make for dinner.
Everything from scratch.
Now she’s in the pantry 
rummaging at 6.

Used to be
the two of them would cheer 
the sunrise on the patio 
with coffee imported
from Antigua or Barbados.
Now they sleep in.
Have instant later.

Used to be
they’d sit on the porch
and watch the sun go down
with oohs and aahs 
and a glass of sherry.
Now they doze in rockers
until it’s almost 10.


Fifty Years Later

Fifty years ago
Jane got on a plane
and flew away
without saying good-bye.
Her parents took her, I know.
She was only 14 but she 
could have said good-bye

to me, the swain 
who saw her through
our last three years 
of grammar school
when she wore braces,
the only girl who had them.

Fifty years later 
at our class reunion
she didn’t come
but I did in a new suit. 
Charlie showed me 
a class photo of all of us
smiling except for Jane. 
The braces, I guess.
Charlie asked how many kids 
I could name and I named 
every one except for Jane.

Charlie said with mock surprise,
“You don’t remember Jane?
You two were pretty tight,
going to the movies and 
sitting in the balcony,
buttered popcorn and all,
a pretty big deal back then.
Someone told the nuns 
and they were furious."

I smiled and said 
“Well, Jane flew away
the summer after eighth grade
without saying good-bye.
I heard ten years later 
she got rid of the braces
and married some Swede
who likes sardines. 
He makes his own lutefisk.
I wish Jane and Ole well.
She was only 14 but she 
could have said good-bye.”

{ Donal Mahoney }

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