This woman
talks to me
in a warm language
between her feelings
and mine.

She has no whip
in her talk,
no snarling teeth;
She does not need to
see the color of my blood
to know me.

This woman,
seeing the gap in my fence,
walks through it
knowingly; and I,
I let her stand in my
field,
unharmed.

-C. Anatopolsky