artists / fiction / Poetry / Uncategorized

French Country

Breauman saunters out

full step

amidst wafting smells

of fresh cut hay

scratchy suit

rough hewn like him

brim of his hat

tasting the salt sweat

of his skin

the hat blocking

a last glimmer

of early autumn sun

church bells ring in the

effervescence of evening time

music now streaming through air

Colette will be at the dance

sashaying in silk and taffeta

a tinge of red wine

on her tongue

he will spy her there

as he samples cheeses and berries

displaying his skill at evaluating

fromage while letting

the taste of berries

quench his lips for now

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11 thoughts on “French Country

  1. This is a poetic short story and I was totally engrossed, beautifully written. Just one complaint – it is too short!! More please. Is this something you’re thinking of extending??

  2. I really liked your snippet of a short story. One I would read more of and enjoy, Lana. There are work study grants and I would be so excited for you to go to France.I wonder can your rock musician guy take you and play in local cafes? 🙂

    • I wish I could get one of those grants….I think I could surely do a better job in the south of France. He would probably enjoy playing his music over there too, he likes playing it anywhere 🙂 Thanks for the compliment…I may have to revisit this one again.

      • Well, we can dream of your South of France teaching and writing experience while weekends you would listen to your sweetie play at local cafes. ❤ ❤

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