Donal Mahoney- A Poem

Night Light 

 

The last visitor before I sleep

is always the old priest

puffing up the stairs to my door,

a wine cask under each arm,

a loaf of pumpernickel in his teeth.

He’s always too late to give the last rites,

and even though I’m usually dead by then,

it falls to me to console him.

So I say, “Father, Father,

you don’t have to hurry.

Faith is no longer a klieg.

It’s a night light left burning all day,

and its bulb is hissing.”

 

Donal Mahoney

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This poem was first published in 

Commonweal Magazine, November 6, 2009.