GASCON JOURNEY<br > I have set out to meet her<br > for the last time， to examine<br > a face that resembles mine<br > in one corner above the right eye<br > and in a temple vein.<br > Fontainebleu， Tours， Poitiers，<br > Angoul~me. The train feeds<br > the voyager a dream of calm.<br > My mother and father， their secrets<br > hummed like rails， flew through<br > road beds and coupling cars.<br > Unlikely lovers.<br > "I d almost forgotten，" she will sigh.<br > "Why do you persist7" She won t look<br > into my eyes. I ll watch her turn away<br > after I leave. A flutter of a memory<br > too swift to catch will vanish in a meadow，<br > a corridor of trees. Was it her face<br > bent over my crib? Were her shoulders<br > hunched when she whispered to the priest?<br > What did she confess to him?<br > I almost see her， my rare and somber visitor，<br > the mother nuns said was a cousin or an aunt<br > The long aisle of lies. I also sigh. I，<br > unknown to the few of a thinning clan，<br > have come this far to see a blood stranger.<br > Bordeaux， Agen， N~rac， Espiens.<br > There are questions I will never ask.<br > There are answers she will never give.<br >
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