the evening I returned

The evening I returned, I walked with in the lanes of rural Normandy, our first time side by side for nearly six weeks.

The evening I returned, we walked quietly amongst the swaths of Old Maid's lace, running our fingers through the blooms, almost too shy to speak. He picked me occasional blooms, handing them to me with a smile in his wide greenish brown eyes.

The evening I returned, We watched the speckled cows grazing in the orchard. We listened to the song thrush singing into the summer sky. He held me in his arms and whispered "Welcome back" into my ear, over and over and over.

The evening I returned, he held me in the fields and I felt both the warmth of him enclosing me and a light breeze caressing my skin. I looked up at the near midsummer sky, and it was as if this evening would go on forever.