Donal Mahoney

Firstborn - Poem by Donal Mahoney

Born at the foot
Of the mountain
what will you do?

You have time to decide
But some die young.
Others live but remain

At the foot of the mountain
Where wind like snow
Blows them around.

So what will you do?
Go 'round the mountain?
Fly over the mountain?

Or climb the mountain,
Hand over hand,
With fingers and toes

Tucked in clefts,
Stopping only for water,
Then going on.

Millions are now
On the side
Of the mountain

Halfway up
With grappling hooks
And the finest gear.

So what will you do?
Parents can pray but
God only knows.

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, August 18, 2013

Poem Edited: Monday, August 19, 2013

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