Biking in France
In his twenty-first summer he biked in France
up a road to an alpine village in France.
On a pilgrimage to a lake in the sky,
he met a girl he knew he’d like in France.
They picked myosotis to weave in her hair,
held hands together in starlight in France.
They spoke of French writers, Camus to Voltaire,
compared his country to all that seemed right in France.
Ten days had gone by, he’d little time to spare.
He promised he’d write letters to her in France.
But once back home, immersed in his new career,
he never replied to letters that came from France.