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Confetti Waiting for a Parade

As autumn turns colder
there’s only one moth
fluttering at midnight
 
around the porch light.
He’s the last of the flock
that danced all summer
 
in the glow of the night.
Confetti that never fell
on a holiday parade.
 
 
Donal Mahoney

Other works by Donal Mahoney...



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