This poem is taken from PN Review 101, Volume 21 Number 3, January - February 1995.
Six Poems
Paula Modersohn-Becker Speaks to Herself
I will become amber.
Daphne wanted
to become a tree.
I think
it was she who chose sweet laurel,
she who chose leaves that are always green.
But I need to go
deeper, into amber.
Already this light,
this sunny May morning
in Paris
has turned my hair amber,
the dark russet kind -
more red than gold.
My eyes: brownish amber
sparkle brighter than the necklace
...
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