Un-Becoming - A Poem

How not to become
an un-

a prefix sans sun

listless
mythless

undone.

By Mary E. Lohan

These Storms -- A Poem

I feel for storms

that deep rumbling, dischord

that quickly sweeps and cloaks

all that is bright and light

until they break --

releasing the torrent, 

        the black torment

in a swirl of din, 

                            wind, 

                                        and sway

until all that was pent
is spent

and

washed away.

By Mary E. Lohan 

Young Lovers - A Poem (From "Four Folded Corners")

We were children
     naive
oblivious,
     running without care,
reckless

     my heart
an egg upon your spoon,

our legs tethered
     running in some clumsy race
to nowhere

     falling
          hard,
the wiles of youth.

By Mary E. Lohan

Moments - A Poem (From "Two of Cups: A NY Poet in Galway")

Each moment
suspended

eternity is
thought

in your eyes
I find being

Life is
never secure

walking the
precipice

we come alone
we go alone

and maybe
one day

we feel
less so

until that too
goes ....

By Mary E. Lohan

Winter's Farewell - A Poem (From "Four Folded Corners")

Snow lines the sill.

I wait
for the bees
to greet
the petite, purple asters
aside my worn, white fence.

I sense the
aching of the dormant trees.

Once sticky pinecones
lay crushed
beneath the evergreens'
brittle, burdened limbs.

By Mary E. Lohan