The smoke in her hennaed hair ...

I read a few icy pages of Therese Racquin - 

The beach cafe would soon be closing - 

I put down my book - 

I heard a song from a car radio - 

I could see the gaudy reef of the pier, the worn hotels facing the sea - 

I remembered meeting Annick on this beach - 

She was with her latest boy - 

I sat with them on the warm stones - 

I saw the bronze bracelet round her wrist - 

I smelled the smoke in her hennaed hair - 

Tuesday 2 July 2019

Southsea