This poem was written after a day exploring Omaha Beach, one of the D-Day invasion beaches of Normandy.

Aurora

Before the dawn the north wind rails

at electric curtains of purple, acid green;

soft and terrible sails

that drape the stars,

flare bright as crystaline arctic nights.

 

Shall I walk far through silver beech

to reach hibernating huntsmen? Snow-shoed,

can I find the north-land's frozen heart?

I shall make a start with a single step;

then turn, glimpse shining horizons fill and pulse,

and fade. . .

 

I am waiting for Spring's sunrise to lift the opal day:

Ahead, ice daggers dissolve;

in the distance dark conifers shiver and sway.

 

Monet's beaches at sunset are miles away.

 

Chris Hubbard

Normandy, France

2016