A TOUCH OF NOSTALGIA

Sonnet-style, though not a sonnet in the accepted sense, this poem is as described in the title, a snapshot from long, long ago.

SNAPSHOT                                                             

That day, with the Atlantic at your back,

you screamed when breakers splashed your thighs with spray

as though it had decided to attack

your alabaster body to repay

you for your trespass. In that moment, I

raised the Box Brownie, quickly clicked a snap, 

and trapped your image, woman, water, sky,

the romance tempered by your bathing cap.

That golden August day down in Kilkee,

I wrapped you in a towel for the heat.

We clung together so contentedly,

while restless summer tide caressed our feet,

and made a childish, reckless teenage vow.

The snapshot yellows in an album now.

For verse of a different kind, why not visit: https://www.facebook.com/richard.fleming.92102564/