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 Maria Onutu

Anne Stewart
 

Insomnie de tanara fata

Era acel tip de barbat pe care
Sa-l fi iubit ar fi putut,
Gandi ea după alta noapte
Mutata-n pat cu acea fireasc-amenintare
A unei nopţi far’de bărbat,
Langă un om netulburat de vise,
Catand refugiu in acel spatiu mort, al ei;
Acel intunecat loc, nefolosit spre a alege
Sau refuzului dat,
Dar începând sa se întrebe,
Daca asa o pierdere ar fi un lucru rau.

Destul de rece spre-a fi vulnerabil,
I-a spus ea lui, cu un barbat aduci,
Si el a ascultat, dar n-a mai fost nicicand văzut de-atunci.