More Poetry from Mike O'Neil

HOW SO BEAUTIFUL

How could we ever have been so beautiful?
We were of course, for the yearbook tells us so.
That was long ago—the book is old and frayed—
And so am I.

Perhaps anon some sentimental grandchild,
Will pull it from the trash heap as a curiosity,
And wonder at its black and white representations,
After I’ve been rendered into dust.

There is PaPa, he or she might say in wonder,
On page 22, dancing with a beautiful girl,
And on page 69, wrestling with muscles straining,
Who could have believed such a thing?

Boreegard AKA Mike O'Neil

May 10, 2009