Female Werewolf
It was, perhaps it still is, popular to take aerial pictures
of farms, frame them, visit the relevant farms and try
to sell them. I had a suitcase full and walked from farm
to the farm I didn’t sell many and was tired when I came to
a small farm, so minor that it was not in my portfolio.
I was thirsty it was July but, I wore a suit with tie to look
businesslike. Knocked on the door it was opened by
a woman who looked affable – this was long ago these
days no one opens doors to strangers- I asked for some
water and she led me to a well lowered a bucket and up
came a pail full of the coolest nectar. We spoke, a widow
a tractor accident had killed him, and she was childless.
I felt a strong sexual pull towards her and could read in her
eyes she felt the same also; but I was too timid to act on it.
I thanked her warmly and left. Years later I read about her
had been married five times and poisoned all her husbands’.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem