Donal Mahoney


Haberdasher's Thoughts - Poem by Donal Mahoney

The haberdasher has
that season of the year
he rids his racks, his bins
of oddments.
I have no season of the year
like that.
Today, or any day, a derby,
spats or chrome-tipped cane
can shuffle out from stock.
I have no choice.
I have to offer counter space.

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 4, 2012



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