“I listen to you, but all I want to remember is your skin, your smell, the life that pulses within you.”
Philippe Besson
The orchard in moonlight
Greets me with
The fragrance
Of apple blossoms.
Nearby, I hear
An owl hoo over
The quiet laughter
Of water
As it passes
Over stones
And around aquatic flora
On its way
To a river miles away.
Dew-damp grass
Softens my steps
As I eagerly
Make my way
To the clearing
Where I know
I'll find you,
As I have been
Finding you
Since Christmas,
Where we will spend
An abbreviated night
Together.
Soon you will graduate
And leave for
A military future,
While I will remain here
Another year.
If only our families
Were not such
Bitter foes!
If only your father
Were not the banker
Threatening our home!
If only my father
Were not the ne'er-do-well
In danger of losing it!
But for now
Our love must bow
Before reality
And wait impatiently
For its freedom.
Very compelling, Rebecca... and you have recreated the aura of a lovely tryst in an idyllic place. Love does that. Blessings and happiness to you, namaste,
Such a wonderful way of describing the way the location of the tryst and the circumstances surrounding why it is so clandestine. You – are writing a whole story with very few words.
A search for the ghost of a chorus girl chorine haunting a costume designer’s Manhattan apartment leads to an encounter with an eccentric, mischievous witch with the ability to send folks back through time…in this case, the 1919 Ziegfeld Follies.
Regis. 🙏😎🐦🦋🐘🐬🌲💚🌳
Bravo! Many kudos!
Ron
Fee