Father's Day Poem by Donal Mahoney

Father's Day



In this house
even the bathroom’s
a place of no peace.

I huddle there Sundays
enthroned with whatever
they’ve left of the paper.

Off the door, the great blitz:
rubber balls, little fists,
soles of bare feet.

Unamused, still perusing,
I sit there refusing
to vacate my sanctum.

Blitz your bare feet!

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