Cephalonia

Those hills behind her They held her innocence The way she held her tongue When he moaned about her bread. Those hills behind her Hold on to a sea that leaves around six She leaves around seven Holding on to her lovers cane. When she last felt the ocean It crashed upon her breasts Sixty nine years ago When she last felt her lover. One night a year she returns to the hill Spends a night by the grove they first fell Waves below crash like promised bodies Too impatient for tradition. Those hills around her Fill with memories and 'luger' smoke She was told he was carrying loaves To eat with the squid he caught And in his pocket was his Fathers ring With their names engraved by a bullet.