The tree with the lights in it.

24 February 2019


Our brazen pilgrimage
A budget flight to Geneva and a hired car

Reckless bumping over muddy fields
Bungled ninth grade French in a country pub

The old farmhouse with a motorbike parked outside
A letterbox by the door displaying the name Berger

We clutched beloved books to our chests, suddenly bashful
Beverly welcomed us in without hesitation, accustomed to this sort of intrusion

Charitably asked about our young lives over cups of black coffee
Presented a new book of essays as a souvenir

We followed Yves up to the hayloft to view his phantasmal paintings
The rainy apparition of a flowering lilac bush in the yard.