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Description
For Lydia. Thoughts on a self-portrait.

The sun ripples her back as the water ripples the sand.

Muscle, she says, and that is true.
And how the muscles play
with arch and shadow and glistening skin.

Bold she is, and strong, a statue in golden light.
Bold she is, and unafraid, standing tall to take the world.
Bold she is, and cautious, too, with cloth discretely held.

Light and dark, strong and frail; bold, doubting.
A fortress in sand. From dust we come; to dust we go.

Skin so fair, so soft, beguiling.
Skin so fair, so warm, inviting.
Skin so fair, so strong, protecting.

Muscle, she says, and that is true.
And how the muscles hide
the wounds and hurts and soul inside.

The sun ripples her back as the water ripples the sand.

Description
For Lydia. Thoughts on a self-portrait.

The sun ripples her back as the water ripples the sand.

Muscle, she says, and that is true.
And how the muscles play
with arch and shadow and glistening skin.

Bold she is, and strong, a statue in golden light.
Bold she is, and unafraid, standing tall to take the world.
Bold she is, and cautious, too, with cloth discretely held.

Light and dark, strong and frail; bold, doubting.
A fortress in sand. From dust we come; to dust we go.

Skin so fair, so soft, beguiling.
Skin so fair, so warm, inviting.
Skin so fair, so strong, protecting.

Muscle, she says, and that is true.
And how the muscles hide
the wounds and hurts and soul inside.

The sun ripples her back as the water ripples the sand.