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One Night Only
When I was young and callow
and could run for twenty miles
I met a woman, Karen,
both sophisticate and kind.
We met while on vacation,
I was her junior by five years.
Her eyes a vivid, limpid blue-
marred recently by tears.
She was on the rebound
from an instance of heart break.
I was young and willing
and, to be honest, a mistake.
It was a thrill to take her hand
and be invited in
I watched her undress slowly
so our passion could begin.
We did not get much sleep at all
though I'll not kiss and tell.
I will say for her recent loss
I stood in very well.
When I awoke next morning
She had dressed and gone away.
I never saw her face again
or spoke about our play.
We loved for one night only
when we wrestled in the sheets..
How bittersweet came morning
with no chance of a repeat.
poem
by
John F. McCullagh
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