Donal Mahoney- Three Poems

Old Sam in Room 322

Old Sam in Room 322 

at the nursing home asked 

the nurse to push his bed 

near the window because 

in October he likes to watch the leaves 

on the Japanese Maple change color 

from their summer green

to the red, yellow and maroon of fall 

before the branches go nude for the winter.

The nurse chuckled and said 

she hadn’t heard of his interest

in trees and nature and Sam said  

watching the leaves change color 

and fall off slowly reminds him of 

his wife getting home from work 

and taking her time to change clothes,

comb her hair and primp a little before 

smiling and coming to bed.

Butterfly Poems

I sit here at peace

and mind my own business

and hope for a butterfly.

I never take one out of the air.

I paint only the flight of the butterfly.

When I see one float overhead

I drop everything,

grab a brush and a pad.

I don’t want to miss a color.

A butterfly flying 

is more valuable 

than gold.

A Day in the Lives

It’s Monday not Sunday

and the frail lady

in black is the only 

person in the pews.

She walked in with 

the cleaning crew, 

four Bosnian women

in aprons and kerchiefs,

women of Islam cleaning 

a Christian church

in the middle of America.

They are refugees settled 

without fuss years ago.

They dust and vacuum

and keep an eye on her

sitting in the front pew

still as a statue.

They can’t see funnels 

whirling in her eyes 

and they don’t realize

she was there on Sunday

for the morning service

with her husband 

who passed the basket

and took her to brunch.

They don’t realize

she will be leaving soon

to go where he is  

to pick out his casket.

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Donal Mahoney lives in St. Louis, Missouri.