The wet wind blew
As I feared it would,
A black cat followed us
Down to the sea.

The black cat snuggled
between our legs
Then hissed
at you and me.

Later, on the train, jambon snuggled next to la beurre.

The yellow vests marched
As I thought they might
The red vests followed
Like day after night –

But no one knows what the red vests suggest
or mean. 

The trees awaken 
In purple and white

And Spring arrives
As I thought it might

Despite the warriors of stone – and the long since dead. 

Despite black skies –
Torrential rain –

Despite the pain of saints –

And holy mothers fair –
Who reign?

Flowers on trees
Dream softly, would –
Ascend to heaven
if they could –

Instead of falling to earth.

Flowers, granite, graves, rain –
A cat, the saints, the pain, the rood –

If asked by a friend to visit France  –
you should, in Spring,

in Spring,

you should.




*      *      *

Photos from Paris, Mont St. Michel, Rennes, St. Malo, and St. Suliac.

Mary Puryear and Ella Steinhilber – your lovely friendship is – evergreen.


*      *      *

From the American cemetery near Rennes (4000 + interred)…

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