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If you can hear
as I can now
the rose of noun
the bee of verb
the hive of mind
then you can hear
as I can now
everywhere
the zither
of the siphonings
of day
everywhere
the last
letter of
the alphabet.
© by Donal Mahoney.
Used with the author’s permission.
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Donal Mahoney (1938 - 2017), the son of Irish immigrants, grew up in Chicago, Illinois. He later lived in St. Louis, Missouri. Donal spent the early ‘70s actively submitting poems to print journals and enjoyed some success. He then took a 35-year hiatus from poetry to work as an editor of prose at such lofty establishments as the Chicago Sun-Times, Loyola University Press, and Washington University in St. Louis. Upon retirement, Donal took to his recliner, and was perfectly happy reading and listening to Gregorian chant all day. After three years, however, his wife bought Donal a computer and showed him where the boxes of still-unpublished poems had been stored in the basement for many years. Thus Donal began actively submitting again in June 2008. See more of his work at http://booksonblog12.blogspot.com/.
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wendy morton:
we are always listening to the hive of the mind, we poet-bees. Lovey.
Posted 09/15/2011 04:16 PM
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LindaCrosfield:
I love your poems, Donal, this one being no exception.
Posted 09/15/2011 01:24 PM
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jeanie:
those last four lines, a small poem in themselves!
Posted 09/15/2011 10:08 AM
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dotief@comcast.net:
Along with the message of seasons turning, I really like the sounds of the words in this one. Good thing since the poem is about the sounds around us every summer that are soon to pass into the silence of other seasons. Nice poem!
Posted 09/15/2011 08:32 AM
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