A Knockout At The End Poem by Donal Mahoney

My parents were
far from preachy.
They went to church
separately and I went
to the children's service
separately as well.

But as a family we
went to many Irish wakes
that enabled me
last New Year's Day
to look death in the eye
when my daughter died
after a long fight to live.

I'm old enough now
to listen for the bell signaling
my own last round with death.
Hard to believe I've made it this far.
I may even lead on points
but any bookie will tell you
death by a knockout at the end.