Donal Mahoney
Snapdragons crackle
in the air for Maura
and her flowing gait,
a swagger neither Nora
nor Maureen would ever
let a suitor savor.
Maura knows
that in her wake
men with scythes
and burlap sacks,
creep like gators,
eyes afire, jaws agape.
Nora and Maureen
can smell these men.
Unlike Maura
and her flowing gait,
Nora and Maureen will smile,
take their time and wait.
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