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An open letter,
Dovecotes from my childhood,
I was born on a farm in the Bas Quercy near a stream called Le Dourre
on the border of two departments Tarn et Garonne and Lot. This
information is enough to situate me. So, I need to disclose no more,
because I know, you’ve already recognized me.
Today, I would like to share the feelings I’ve had for you
for such a long time and about which I’ve never spoken.
For decades, you’ve watched my comings and goings, both on foot
or on bicycle and you are aware of all my chosen routes each week-end.
You wait for me at the bend in the lane and as soon as I approach, you
watch me from up high. You look me up and down with all your circular
eyes………..
Now I have to confess.
I feel so small, so vulnerable when I am by your side, so you might think I go on my way unconcerned…..
Of course, quite frankly, your point of view does contain a modicum of truth.
For many years I turned a blind eye to your noble silhouettes.
Did you really exist for me? You have always been a part of my surroundings.
Sometimes, I admit, I looked at you without even seeing you.
But how many times did I see you in my mind’s eye?
How not to be impressed by your proud charm, the harmony of your
proportions, your athletic stature, and the elegance of your apparel
….
My first thoughts are of you,those who are solitary, forsaken and deeply rooted in this
land of Quercy. Modest, imperturbable, with Nature’s Orchestra as
sole companion, you defy the passing of time.
Only your dress, soiled by the years, has lost its pristine freshness.
I turn towards you, the discrete ones, strong but stylish. Hidden to preserve your freedom and the life which heaves around you.
A ray of sunshine between the leaves showers your blouse with golden brown colours.
The soft touch of the down, imprint of the past……………….
I have not forgotten you the elegant, the noble ones.
Standing on tiptoe, with legs stretched, draped in your coat of
criss-crossed seams, you scan the horizon, ready to protect your social
position and save your honour.
The fury of our Autan wind blowing without loosing its breath dreams of
stripping you of your fine apparel. But you remain virtuous.
And you refuse to bow down because you belong to a great race.
You are unique dovecotes from my childhood. You have class.
Please stay by my side.
Life without you would be inconceivable.
But I know your faithfulness.
Be assured of my continued attachment.
Until the next time.
Are you missing me ?
Oh ! I love you.
Agnes.
Chosen poem