She’s looking at you

Young woman. Edgar Degas

She’s looking at you


She has strong forearms,

muscles move under her skin,

ballet dancers behind a silk curtain.

She moves from space to space

leaving seconds and minutes

scattered behind her.


Her hair,

winter grasslands of the highveld,

strips darkened by fire

that hold within it

the mystery of growth after rain.


Her voice are her words,

a spring emerging from a source

hidden from her,

unexplored by men, women,

and children.

Yet, there is a child

that understands her,

the child she was

and sometimes still is.


Her hands shape the reality

she chooses to live in,

switching on truths

with a flick of a finger,

switching off an evil

with the flat of her palm.


Her eyes live under the protection

of her her eyebrows.

They receive the uncertain colours

of the world around her,

but they broadcast

their own vivid light

that shines on you

and picks out your shadow.


About kruger01

Poet, author, translator Grandfather of five. Bonsai grower.
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