Moon Bathing

 

The moon cast silver on her

ivory skin making her seem

translucent

or

metallic,

he could not decide which –

but she was beautiful

bathing in the silver lake.

 

He could sing the glory

of her

silver skin to

all the Gods

of the pantheon

but

he did not want to

panic her –

he knew what became of

those who

glimpsed her

beautiful, bathing body:

some became stags for her to hunt,

some became moored from lack of wind,

or were simply struck down on the spot.

 

But he was safe,

in the shadow of the canopy,

and admired her as she bathed.

He was

the one who got away.

© R. L. Elke 2016