The Witness

I am stepping out of my car.

The drive was short,

Yet I am now in a no man’s land,

Compared to where I was before.

 

I have landed in a preserved bubble of Earth

At the heart of the countryside.

The roots of my family are planted here.

 

I am standing where my mother grew up

And when – I close my eyes

And open them again

I am stepping out of time.

 

This place now appears to me

The way it must have looked

Fifty years ago,

At a time when more people

Still worked their lands to eat.

 

My grandmother looks fit and younger.

She is wearing a long, light blue dress

Of thick, plain cotton, under knee length,

No cleavage, reaching round around her neck.

 

Her white apron shows stains of milk and soil

She is rushing out of the stables and hailing

A name – two little Bella dolls are lying on the ground,

 

By the stairs. On the adjoining grounds, waving to her sister

Who is watching from afar, a tiny blonde head is climbing

The wooden fence, unaware a horned ram is heading her way.

She settles, looks up, then closes her eyes, and screams.

 


Featured image captured on July 24th, 2016 in Oze, Hautes Alpes, France, with an iPhone 5C  – HDR settings


Advertisements

10 Comments Add yours

  1. Marvelous post like always

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, M ❤ You are the first on the line as always! Your kind support is truly appreciated.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Always. I will always be there for you

        Liked by 1 person

  2. when the innocent were truly young and innocent ❤ beautiful

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Carisa ❤ for reading, appreciating and leaving such a lovely comment ❤ I am delighted you enjoyed my words.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Thank you for sharing them 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  4. A gentle nostalgic trip, of imagined memories, and surprisingly ended by the ram lol I like the discord of it.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you! Life in the country side was tough in 1960s ^^ The explosive cocktail of a true story told by my grand mother and a visit to my mum’s house, triggered this writing trip.

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s