Youth hostelling in Normandy

Poem by Roger Iredale

by Roger Iredale 3rd May 2024

The Paris gendarme whimsically dropped
round David’s neck a garland he’d found,
and waved us on. We pedalled stoically
over Normandy as wind plucked cuffs
and panniers, barns hosted us.
Till one night, sleeping in a ruined
chateau guarded by a ghostly widow,
who led us down dark corridors of dust,