Bretagne in the raw.

We lie
hand in hand,
your head in my lap,
under the shade of a low tree
beside a Normandy coastline,
in a field full of
white stone crosses.

And as the wind blows
huge, silent, grey-white clouds
across an otherwise clear sky,
and the hair across your still face,
I think about how many lives were lost
how much blood and tears were spilled,
so that we two could lie here,
so that I could watch you sleep in my arms
and dream of the future
and your silent charms.

5 comments

  1. zaphodfreek · August 1, 2009

    I have somewhat stolen the title.

  2. Meghan · August 9, 2009

    Very nice. Great imagery.

  3. howard · August 17, 2009

    I love this one. It flows very nicely. Stolen title or not, it stands well enough on its own.

  4. zaphodfreek · August 17, 2009

    Thanks Howard.
    Haven’t been writing all that much recently.
    Glad you’re holding out for me.

  5. howard · August 17, 2009

    Quality over quantity, my friend…

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