Poems and Poetry

Waterbugs, Roses and Me | A Poem by Donal Mahoney

Waterbugs scurry
when the light snaps on
at midnight in the bathroom
the way this woman’s eyes
dart when I see her
dancing with a nice man
but not the right man.
He’s shorter than I am,

has a neat goatee.
She always knew
my interest would last
once I had gamboled
in the garden of roses
she had been planting
one rose at a time
for a devil like me.

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