The Champ
training
under water
holding his breath
the striking contrast of the
white boxing shorts against his
black skin
the ripple of light
the watery shadows
a left jab
a right hook
an uppercut
and that fancy footwork
no, not foot work
'work' would be the wrong word
it was a dance, it was:
The Dance of the Butterfly
and it was while I
was losing myself
in that photograph
that it occurred to me
that even under water
I wouldn't have wanted
to take a punch from
The Champ
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem