Legend

Notes fall as lightly as rain
on the ponds and music rides the wind
when the thin man

picks up his instrument,
draws a stick across the strings.
Maybe he calls me,

speaks to me in the salt air.
On a gray day, he believes
he can see me—

     and how would I look,
a naked sylph, a woman in white,
an arc of pure light?

Legend says I was
as bright as the sun.
When men fell in love with me,

I blinded them.