Now Blooms the Magnolia
By Silver Spun Sand
Mon, 04 May 2015
- 1354 reads
4 comments
1 likes
The hills of Provence – a landscape
lost to me.
A rambling mill with rooms and a pool –
where, each afternoon, I talked,
ate, swam, with those passed on now,
and can never go back – stand
upon the terrace – giddy
with a sense of déjà vu.
And this...here...now
you running to greet me the minute
the sun appears from a fretwork of clouds....
a pair of comma butterflies cavorting
midst a custard-cupped magnolia...
no more than I can make this moment mine,
will it ever come again.
- Log in to post comments
Comments
1 User voted this as great feedback
I have never been there, and
I have never been there, and not likely to, now. This sounds like it is based on a lovely clear etched memory. Rhiannon
- Log in to post comments
1 User voted this as great feedback
Captured something
Captured something irretrievable, here. Difficult to pin down a specific time in life and a moment in words with any ease, Tina, plus that gut-aching regret when you can't go back. It's expressed distinctly here.
- Log in to post comments