Bells from the Cathedral

How do you tell
a wife you love
there are Spring days
in raw Chicago
bright with sun
and the boom
of bells
from the Cathedral
how do you tell
a wife like that
there are Spring days
you wish you had a girl

© 2010 Donal Mahoney. All rights reserved.


Snapdragons crackle

in the air for Maura

and her flowing gait,

a swagger neither Nora

nor Maureen would ever

let a suitor savor.

Maura knows

that in her wake

men with scythes

and burlap sacks,

creep like gators,

eyes afire, jaws agape.

Nora and Maureen

can smell these men.

Unlike Maura

and her flowing gait,

Nora and Maureen will smile,

take their time and wait.

© 2010 Donal Mahoney. All rights reserved.

About the Author

Donal Mahoney, a native of Chicago, lives in St. Louis, MO. He has worked as an editor for The Chicago Sun-Times, Loyola University Press and Washington University in St. Louis. He has had poems published in or accepted by The Wisconsin Review, The Kansas Quarterly, The South Carolina Review, The Beloit Poetry Journal, Commonweal, Public Republic (Bulgaria), Gloom Cupboard (U.K.), Revival (Ireland), The Istanbul Literary Review (Turkey), Poetry Friends, Black Lantern Publishing, Super Highway, Pirene's Fountain (Australia) and other publications.
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