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I have spent hours
lying in the sun
on Joe Brickle’s farm

waiting for Pedro and Pablo
to fetch Little José
with his sickle and scythe

to cut down the high grass
so Pedro and Pablo
can roar their mowers

over the cowlicks.
I have not wasted time
lying in the sun

watching two doves
in the grass
walking in circles

waiting for a sparrow
to dance on the rung
of a feeder

Joe Brickle hung
in his Dogwood.
The doves need the seed

the sparrow will scatter.
Joe Brickle named goats
after prophets in the Bible.

He’d be happy to know
that I’ve named the doves
Pedro and Pablo

and the sparrow
now landing
is Little José.

© Donal Mahoney 2013

*****

Memories of youth and days spent in the sun course through this piece by Donal Mahoney. Certainly, the times spent on Joe Bickle’s estate must have been happy ones, because in this piece we see the subject looking back on them fondly, with a sense of longing for the ghosts of yesteryear to be here in the now with him. Reminiscent of a grown-up Tom Sawyer re-telling his tale through the eyes of a melancholy adult, this piece just oozes imagery, and the reader is drawn fully into the moment with the poet, leaving the reader with a sense that this past is their own.

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