We stood on the old ramparts of ancient Amboise
Looking northeast upon the Loire.
Late morning's light hung like lazy haze
Shining on the endless tree lined shore.
It was a view from another life
Momentarily shared by our other lives.
You watched as I rummaged through the
Backpack for our lunch, smiling.
We ate a simple meal; bread, cheese and fruit.
A little communion coming to be,
A humble treasure of this universe.
But not as precious as the strands of gold
Absently disturbed by a rising breeze
And finding their resting place on your brow,
Crowning the wistful hazel and amber in your eyes.