Brest, France - 1805

She swears that she remembers
the last time we lay as lovers;
promises and kisses in the dark
before the fleet sailed
on the first north wind of autumn.

She says I left her aching-lonely
stalking headlands, watching always
for the white topsails returning
her Lieutenant in the navy of Napoleon
the father of her unborn son.

Her seductive savior, I was
forever lost to Nelson's cannons.
Only echoes of Trafalgar's deadly roar
broke the cold and stony silence
waiting by her painted door.

And she feels again
relentless as a thorn
broken off beneath the skin
her endless never knowing
if she had simply been a fool

or loved.


K.A.WOOD
2004