Vacances

Do you remember the pigeonnier

that sweltering July in the Dordogne sunshine,

the heady aroma of

overripe tomatoes and unctuous melons

painting the flavour of each day,

you swam naked and 

played tennis in your underclothes

I couldn’t look at you,

we took close-up photographs

of the drunken bowing sunflower heads

black seeds smearing your bare shoulders

treading barefoot like a ballerina,

Pecharment was our sedative, as

foolish newly-fledged owlets 

returned each night and

kept us awake in our separate rooms.

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© Graham Sherwood 10/2020