In The Summer At Normandy

In the summer, we went to Normandy.
The sea glinted,
Dogs frolicked off leash,
children played in the sand.

In the summer at Normandy,
Technology is left behind
in favor of the timeless
sounds of children laughing.

In the summer at Normandy
People bathe in the sea,
as shallow tides reveal
partially sunken tanks.

In the summer at Normandy.
We rest by a concrete German bunker,
next to rusty barbed wire,
and watch children play.

In the summer at Normandy,
We look through the slot,
crouching in dirt
imagined thousands of soldiers shot.

In the summer at Normandy.
I think of Grandfather’s stories,
of D-Day horrors, the deaths
of ten thousand men.

The summer we went to Normandy,
I watched a blond boy carry a red kite
toward sparkling sea,
and knew they all died,
so this could be.