Vindobala ...

Rough pasture covered Vindobala - sheep grazed amidst thistles and nettles - no keen girl from California was assisting a dig to unearth poignant stone - 

We were on our way to Corbridge - we put down our rucksacks to gaze upon the wind swept grass - 

We all fell silent, each with our different thoughts - 

I thought of my life, and of what I'd cherished -  

I recalled some lines from Apollinaire - I'd read his poems one tender summer - 

Later we passed by a field of wheat - birds flew above our heads -

"Memories are hunting horns

Whose sound dies along with the wind"  

July 6 2014

Vindobala