Nude in the Sunlight

A couple years ago I had my poetry-writing students make altered books.  They painted and collaged and added a poem to each page.  I did it with them and this is one of the pages I did.

Nude in the Sunlight

We escaped

from our work

and slipped away

to these woods

to make love

in the sunshine

then he asked

if he could paint

me sitting

in the glow,

as natural

as the air

swirling around

the leaves

and my breasts.

I pulled my shirt

up to cover

part of me

because no man

should ever know

all of a woman,

but let him

love me again

with his paintbrush.

What does he see

as he sketches?

Does he notice my arms

thick from doing

my mistress’s laundry?

Does he see my hair

loosened like the grasses

fluttering freely

but still anchored?

He captures the coins

of light on my skin

but he can’t draw

my soul

hidden in my sturdy

body.

He thinks he’s painting

me

but each stroke

lights the fire

of naked

independence

that I’m smiling about.

Soon I’ll head back

to the steamy washtub

taking the energy

of the afternoon

with me.