Woman with her Back to the Artist

Her mind may be in moonlight,
Or walking in the winter rain,
Or flooding her fears with her tears
And washing away her disdain.

Perhaps she sees a glistening glacier,
Or a river fed by melting snow,
But all I see with her back to me
Is a mystery that I'll never know.

I could reach out to touch her body,
Stroke her hair and kiss her heart,
But here I stay, a distance away
To ponder her as a piece of art.

About the poet/painter