John F. McCullagh (09/28/1954 / Flushing)
At five foot two in her heels
and being decidedly round
Lori didn't turn many masculine heads
Yet she turned one poor boy's life around.
Forty or more years its been
since we were both seventeen.
I recall it a difficult year,
Like so many others between.
Cherry cokes at the Blue Bay diner-
She worked on the paper with me.
She rolled up her skirt like the others
to show off her catholic girl knees.
With Greg as her steady companion
she was the heart of our group.
They provided a fair bit of drama
in the happiest days of my youth.
For I was an ungainly kid,
nonathletic, built close to the ground.
It was Lori who made social circles
large enough to include me in bounds
We always were friends, never lovers,
never shared one passionate kiss
She taught me that mercy trumps justice
She made circles like God makes his.
Let other Bards praise the great beauties
They're easy to spot in this town.
My muse was a girl short and homely.
Such beauty is rare I have found.
Comments about this poem (Rare Beauty by John F. McCullagh )
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