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Therapy | A Poem by Donal Mahoney

In the waiting room,
I squeeze
this trinity of walnuts

tighter till
louder than that tot
who’s rapped her elbow

off the radiator,
I can hear,
clear for once,

clearer than
the sirens I’ve heard
all these years, the cry

of real fear
as these three
walnuts whimper.

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