Poem by Charlene Moskal & Art by Larissa Boni
Minnewaska
thick with the spice of damp earth
and the swish-sway sound of
pine needles underfoot –
the expectations palpable.
We come ready to pay homage,
reveal ourselves as unformed prayers,
carry little more than a towel
to wrap around newly fleshed hips
our youth eager for the day
Naked on flat rocks
we are odalisques, a harem –
the sun burrows into skin
turns our whiteness
the red of wild strawberries.
Clear as sheets of new ice
cold spring fed mountain water
held in a white marble bowl
beckons, echoes the color of sky
opens below like a hungry mouth
that waits to ravage our bodies
with raised goose bumps
and the possibility of sex
even as the scent of copperheads
rises from their nests along the waterline.
Minnewaska
thick with the spice of damp earth
and the swish-sway sound of
pine needles underfoot –
the expectations palpable.
We come ready to pay homage,
reveal ourselves as unformed prayers,
carry little more than a towel
to wrap around newly fleshed hips
our youth eager for the day
Naked on flat rocks
we are odalisques, a harem –
the sun burrows into skin
turns our whiteness
the red of wild strawberries.
Clear as sheets of new ice
cold spring fed mountain water
held in a white marble bowl
beckons, echoes the color of sky
opens below like a hungry mouth
that waits to ravage our bodies
with raised goose bumps
and the possibility of sex
even as the scent of copperheads
rises from their nests along the waterline.