A Land Girl Liaison
Juliette van der Molen
War torn world—stripped of men- stockings turned wool with
whipcord breeches—muddy brown brogues—rooted earth.
Your forest eyes fell me—tree at your feet. But
Land girls know their place.
Hands calloused—fields tilled by feminine strength. Still
lipstick stains your coffee cup. My thumb brushes
A wandering wish I don’t understand. But,
Land girls know their place.
Stolen moments behind a barn—under stars
shining watchful eyes, a voyeur unbidden.
Night flight risque raid, lips on lips bomb kisses—
Now I know my place.
Cauldron Anthology
19