Those Poems, That Fire Poem by Donal Mahoney

Those Poems, That Fire



I stood in the alley, still
in pajamas, somebody's shoes,
another man's coat, my eyes
on the bronc of the hoses.
Squawed in the blankets of neighbors,
my wife and three children sipped
chocolate, stood orange and still.
Of the hundred or more I had stored
in a drawer, I could remember,
comma for comma, no more than four,
none of them final,
all of them fetal.

Saturday, May 31, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: death
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Susan Lacovara 31 May 2014

How tragic losing your words to the fire, how miraculous you and yours were safe....I mourn with you, the loss of the sentences that failed to survive....ahhh, but once they did live. Your writes always fascinate me....I am indeed a following fan. PEACE

0 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success