New Poetry by Donal Mahoney

Surprise, Surprise

The mother's dead. 

Thirty years later 

you meet the daughter 

and realize the daughter 

is the mother again, 

poking her finger 

in your chest half an hour

after her plane lands. 

The same laugh knocks

folks in the elevator 

back a bit.

Every time the daughter 

grabs your arm 

to emphasize a point

the way the mother did,

you want a ticket

to the Maldives

or maybe Bulgaria.

Sofia in the summer

might be nice.

This time, however,

you stay put.

She found you

on the Internet.

You must admit

the freckles 

across her nose 

scream she's right: 

You are her father. 

Surprise, Surprise.

Her mother never said.

- Donal Mahoney 2014

Donal Mahoney lives in St. Louis, Missouri.