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The Cab That I Caught
I remember the train
and the cab that I caught,
the train because of the meal that I had,
too many plates, the tiniest portions,
the cab because of the driver I had.
I could see in the mirror his eye
soar to the side of its socket,
a hummingbird there
ready to flutter into his skull.
From station to town,
that hummingbird flew
as I kept listening
to its master extol
the town's lone hotel.
poem
by
Donal Mahoney
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