but came to her on a summer’s afternoon
when sunlight filtered through the tree limbs
and left soft shadows on the ground below
interspersed with flashes of gold.
He did not come to her with a dark look.
There was nothing sinister in his countenance.
He came with eyes flecked with amber
sharp, white teeth
full red lips
and a strong square jaw
accentuated by a closely trimmed mustache and beard.
He did not greet her with “Pleased to meet you,
hope you guess my name”
for that would have tipped her off.
He placed a warm hand on her bare shoulder.
but did not recognize the touch.
She sat with him on the plaid blanket
under the mulberry trees
as he softly traced his fingers along
the sun-warmed calf of her leg
up and under her soft cotton skirt
to find her tender thighs,
his hand slipping like silk between the pale blue lace of her panties
and the smooth white cream of her skin.
He had brought wine and roses.
She had no idea the wine was poisoned
the roses rotted through and through.
© Birdstory Publications, 2008