When he met her in the spring
She was baby-smooth.
Copper hair wisped over
Pale, thin brows.
She was a peach.
If sunlight touched her arms
It dissolved in their golden glow.
Summer, climbing
From the pool, she
Stretched her arms
Above her head.
In the hollows, he saw
Shadows and turned
His head away.
By fall, there were shadows
Everywhere:
Arms, wrists,
Legs, cheeks,
Across her thighs,
Around her lips.
He closed his eyes
Tight against
Other places,
Other shadows.
For winter, her hair
Grew in full.
It terrified him:
Red strands coiling,
Reaching down for
Neck, shoulders, knees.
How could this be?
Here was his love
Turning to flesh
And blood
Before him.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A transformative experience. I can only guess at the history, but applaud the eloquence. A fine write: many shadows on this screen. Be well. - Will