Short Natural Disastersday Poems

A Father's Reverie

A Father’s Reverie


I have been sentenced to tumblers
of iced tea in an old lawn chair
for the summers that remain 
in my life. But I don’t complain.
I go to bed and I lie there

for hours like a mummy. 
I stare at the ceiling and finger a curl
in my sleeping wife’s hair.
How many hours do I slaughter 

each evening, asking no one
why I quit drinking 
the day I got married,
why I got married
the day I quit drinking.

Donal Mahoney