Donal Mahoney Poems

This morning at table
as the kids scream for breakfast
and I ask for peace
my wife stirs the porridge
...

Poetry by priests?
Who gives it more than mock attention?
We read their poems, yes,
author first, then the title,
...

Mrs. O’Malley
from across the alley
has another small job
for my father to do
...

How are things, Adolph?
This is Brian, from NBC.
Thanks for the interview.
It will air in September
...

They’re widows,
old and gray, bent over
a quilting frame, sewing
to meet a deadline
...

Gramps by the fire
in his rocker hunched over
is rolling his smoke with care
...

We hung suet out
on the deck today
hoping the wrens
would come
...

After 50 years Wilma
at her class reunion thinks
Waldo’s changed with age
...

Ginny didn’t know if it was a large pond or a small lake in the middle of the beautiful park where she had been hired right after high school to help with maintenance of the grounds. Now, however, her duties had been expanded beyond cutting the grass and weeding the unending flower beds. Now she had been tasked with collecting goose eggs from the nests around the pond. None of her co-workers envied her getting this assignment. It wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

Years ago migrating Canada Geese had begun stopping in the park and some of them liked it so much they stayed, establishing homes, if you will, around the water. They built nests, laid eggs and produced quite a large flock of beautiful geese.
...

Brett and Amanda were
in the same wedding party.
He was best man,
bronze and handsome.
...