Held in the memory

Momentary flames
            a brief fire that flickers
in the mouth of a cave
            a time for reflection
and for expression
            Pollock’s hand prints
on the wall
            the colours mixed
with intention
            a scheme of things
in the mind
            deliberately executed

Not to leave a record
            but simply to tell
of how it is
            of how it was
that day when we walked
            through the rain
or when we parked our bikes
            and stood in the shadow
of Chartres cathedral
            and admired its beauty
Days that we will never forget
            until the end of our days
and our love held
            in the memory

John Lyons