We are alone here, sea and me
I know she hasn’t much to tell me
as I have heard it all before,
it is the same at every shore:
she speaks of longing and she lies.
She took too much, but she denies.
The ships she sank, the loss of lives
the crying of the fishers’ wives,
she turns her back at that and flows,
indifferent, but oh yes, she knows.
She took them in her evil web.
I’m left alone as it is ebb.
“I just know it was there!”
It was gone, the airplane that she had seen earlier that day. The wheat in the field was waving and whispering, but no airplane. The girl in the red blouse felt disappointment.
Her father shook his head.
“You must have been mistaken. There is nothing here. Come on, you must help your mother now.”
She took her basket of wheat and started walking back to the farmhouse slowly. Could she really have been so mistaken?
The sky was blue that moment. The field was covered with yellow wheat. An ordinary Summer’s day.
And then, out of the blue, the double-decker airplane appeared over her head, the pilot waved before he took a loop and went to the distance from where she could hear the artillery near Thiaumont, heavy 420mm shell fire.
“See?” she said, pointing in the air triumphantly. Her father nodded. The war was approaching.
June 21, 1916
entry for bluebellbooks short story slam week 8
Once your name meant love
but no matter how I say your name now,
it gives me shivers to hear it.
Maybe I should try
and forget thinking of you
which is not easy,
my lips still want to say your name
in silent whispers
in cries at night
Once you would have heard me.
Twice you left.