Donal Mahoney


Savannah Belle - Poem by Donal Mahoney

Here in Chicago I sit in the sun
of an Indian Summer
high on the Water Tower waiting,

chapped hands in a visor
over my eyes, hoping I see
you in that gown,

black satin and grace,
float like a feather
back to Chicago.

I don't care if you stop
by Confederate streams
on the way from Savannah

to pick phallic rocks
so long as you rise,
release all your hair,

take to the air
and float like a feather
on to Chicago

because this is the last time I'll sit
on the Water Tower waiting.
I'd rather go blind than see

you in that gown,
black satin and grace,
stop in the air

laugh like a loon
then float like a feather
back to Savannah.


Comments about Savannah Belle by Donal Mahoney

  • Rookie - 129 Points Stephen Loomes (9/3/2013 9:44:00 AM)

    A true poet; over time I will meander through the whole 208 poems. I believe it will be worth my time. (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 1 comments »



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Poem Edited: Tuesday, August 27, 2013


[Hata Bildir]