—TO AN OLD LADY Poem by Mitsuharu Kaneko

The woman's become naked. But
not to wait for caresses.

In the shifting light and dark
her skin faintly smells.
Knowing no lewdness, her
thin bloom,
her fine wrinkles.

Like the marks left by someone hitting,
these aquamarine stains
that remain all over her body
are the fingerprints of those who touched her and went.
Like a fruit left unsold
at the fruit store.

The woman's become naked. Summer clothes
changed to those for autumn, that transience.