Sunday Commandants Poem by Donal Mahoney
Sunday Commandants
You met the man a year ago
shook hands with him back then.
Now you see him once a week
nod and say hello but you
can’t stand the man for reasons
you don't understand.
Neither of you is rich or poor.
He’s done nothing untoward.
Perhaps it has to do with him
becoming a commandant like you
albeit in a different aisle
passing the basket at church.
Monday, August 3, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: ignorance,jealousy
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4/25/2024 8:12:37 PM # 1.0.0.1119
