Father's Day Reverie Poem by Donal Mahoney
Father's Day Reverie
I have been sentenced to tumblers
of iced tea in an old lawn chair
for the summers that remain
in my life. But I don't complain.
I go to bed and I lie there
for hours like a mummy.
I stare at the ceiling and finger a curl
in my sleeping wife's hair.
How many hours do I slaughter
each evening, asking no one
why I quit drinking
the day I got married,
why I got married
the day I quit drinking.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/5/2024 8:06:55 PM # 1.0.0.1119
