The Man Who Lives in the
Gym
by Donal Mahoney
St. Procopius College
Lisle, Illinois
after World War II
The
man who lives in the gym
sleeps
in a nook up the stairs
to
the rear. Since Poland
he's
slept there, his tools
bright
in a box locked
under
his bed. At noon bells
call
him down to the stones
that
weave under oaks to the abbey
where
he at long table takes
meals
with the others
the
monks have let in
for
a week, or a month, or a year
or
forever, whatever
the
need. The others all know
that
in Poland
had
been skewered, his children
partitioned,
that he had escaped
in
a freight car of hams.
So
when Brother brings in, on a gun
metal
tray, orange sherbet for all
in
little green dishes,
they
blink at his smile,
they
join in his laughter.
~
first published in The Davidson
Miscellany
