Waking to love

Anne was first in the river -

I watched her swim, her body dear to me, barely stirring the water -

Poplar trees touched the summer sky -

I remembered seeing her swimming from a windswept beach -

Standing afterwards on the sand -

Throwing back her hair -

Behind us were orchards, churches in quiet villages, a sunlit room -

The thought that every morning we would wake to love -

Salisbury 

August 2025