They’re in the kitchen,
drinking coffee, the kids,
in their fifties now,
figuring out what to do
about Dad who’s
in the parlor listening,
counting all the marbles
they think he’s lost.
The six of them flew in
to bury mother.
They won’t go back
until they figure out
what to do about Dad.
At the funeral they saw
Father Kelly kiss Dad’s
wedding ring, the one
he’s worn for 60 years.
Father Kelly bowed
over the wheelchair
as if Dad were pope
and told him he’d be over
Tuesday night as usual
for checkers and a beer.
Best two out of three
goes to heaven first.
One of many nominated for Best of the Net and Pushcart prizes, Donal Mahoney
has had poetry and fiction appear in various publications in North America, Europe, Asia and Africa. Some of his work can be found at tp://eyeonlifemag.com/the-poetry-locksmith/donal-mahoney-poet.html.
A wonderful commentary on conversations many of us are having, and the parents we treat in the third person.
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