You are heathen. Naked. Wild.
You astound me with your clumsy grace.
Your every move is dance.
You are liquid.
Cry, and your arms mourn.
Smile, and your legs laugh.
Take delight in your body,
love yourself
with abandon.
Watch out for narrow-eyed men.
One day, a clumsy boy
will admire your grace
and love you, I hope,
as I love you now
and give you, I hope, as much joy
as he takes.
from Son of a Poet
© Copyright 1986 by Joe Cottonwood