Not Lost in France

Whispered words

through lips that held

no hunger

searched

in the night

to swallow

the shadows,

leaving a trace

that would lead me

to another horizon,

another path,

defeating the constant

changing, knowing

deep down that

all our destinations

are the same.

Then,

for the

briefest

of moments,

that interlude,

softer than the moonlight

and music

that bathed the room,

I left

my soul to rest on

a

fleeting sensation

of peace.

Dave.English(c) Octobre 2009.