Why hi, beautiful,
hi again and again,
don’t you remember
how much I loved you?
How could you not know?
I whistled after you
in the street
time after time,
and you never even blinked,
never even a wink
to lure me on,
encourage me
to make some crazy affirmation.
I gave up my braces
and my teeth stayed crooked;
who cared?
I threw my studious life
and future promise,
no small thing,
down the river
when you rode off
with some college-clad rower;
who cared?
I loved you, I loved
who you were when
you first tripped my heart
and I fell like
a bird from a bower.
Here I am still,
take me for what I am,
no beast, no beauty,
no captain of the crew,
no quirky scholar;
just a guy under the light
at the end of the street,
at the end of his tether
spotlighted, eaten alive
by his love for you, burning
for beautiful you;
by his love consumed.
In plain sight
take me for what I am
and what you owe me.
Jack D. Harvey has been writing poetry since he was sixteen. He lives in a small town near Albany, N.Y. He was born and worked in upstate New York. He is retired from doing whatever he was doing before he retired.
