AN ACCOLADE FOR EVA BRAUN

A special honor to an ex-consort.

To Eva Braun, my consort of one day:
Do you recall our small steps
to the northern coast of Shire -
where for your people,
and the locale for me to see?
The day the scorching sun
seared our faces 'til we sweat
profusely?
The day our sċōh-fitted pads
trod the hot ashen sands of the
unknown niches of our hearts
that were certainly poles apart?
The day we had only ourselves
to listen to the squelching

our feet made ‐ while we trod 

the unknown together?

The gentle wind on the
plains donning the brown
dry Savanna grass that
hissed of a forerunner
to the withering neonatal love?
Sincerely, I whine at these
each time I revisit you, Eva,
on these beaches of thought