ANNE STEWART

Young Girl Waking


He was the sort of man she might
have loved she thought after another night
conveyored into bed

with the careless threat
of a man-less night by a dreamless man
seeking refuge in that dead place of her own;

that dark not used to choice or given to refusing
but beginning to wonder if such a losing
would be so bad a thing.

Cold enough for out on a limb
You are the kind of man she told him,
and he listened, and was never seen again.

Gabriela Alama

Anne Stewart
 

Tanara trezindu-se

El era genul de barbat pe care ea
l-ar putea iubi, gandea dupa inca o noapte
petrecuta in pat

cu usoara amenintare
a unei nopti fara un barbat langa un barbat fara vise
cautand adapost in acel loc fara viata al ei;

acel intuneric neobisnuit cu un refuz sau cu o alegere
dar incepand sa se intrebe daca astfel de pierdere
ar fi un lucru atat de rau.

Destul de frig pentru a risca
“Esti acel fel de barbat” i-a spus ea,
iar el a ascultat si nu l-a mai vazut de-atunci.