Donal Mahoney


The Cab That I Caught


I remember the train
and the cab that I caught,
the train because of the meal that I had,
too many plates, the tiniest portions,
the cab because of the driver I had.

I could see in the mirror his eye
soar to the side of its socket,
a hummingbird there
ready to flutter into his skull.

From station to town,
that hummingbird flew
as I kept listening
to its master extol
the town's lone hotel.

Submitted: Monday, April 16, 2012

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

There is no story, I'm afraid. I made it all up.

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