Beyond the River
the French countryside–I’ve seen her wear it on Sundays,
the demolished cafe–the place we met–sans the coffee;
we share memories of our mother with mortars
beyond the river where red was only roses and Revlon,
and we left our school-teaching-selves
like the rubble now under our brothers
that collapsed our bridge home.
Author Note: i finally saw "saving private ryan" and this was my response. "beyond the river" can be the next battlefield (another triumpth), home (the united states), or heaven (the afterlife)
About the author
I live with my wife, an artist, in Indianapolis. Besides poetry, I like to take photographs, read books, travel overseas, and listen to news/political podcasts, college lectures and classic literature. You can read about my approach to poetry on my poetics page. To stay in touch, follow me on Twitter or connect on a variety of other social networks.
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