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An Old Friend in a Box
by
Donal Mahoney

 
I found an old friend
in a cardboard box
in the basement
where I left him
forty years ago.

His body was intact
but he never had a heart
which is why I left him
with drafts of other
poems published
long ago on paper
in little magazines
decades before
computers appeared.

The poems were born
on a Royal typewriter
with carbon paper
serving as midwife.
He was the only one
I didn't sent out
but didn’t have
the heart to abort.

I took him upstairs
to see if my skills
as a surgeon
had developed.
Maybe I could give him
a heart on my iMac.
So far so good.
He’s not perfect
but he’s wriggling.
If he doesn’t reject
his new heart
I’ll let you know
how he turns out.
--Submitted by Donal Mahoney on 2016-07-15.
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