Napoleon’s Hat is there, so they say,

on the pink granite coast where water’s weight

has rounded rocks to a sculptured flesh

etched frozen rosé, creating shapes

of Turtle, Bear and Elephant.

 

We took the customs officers path

and came upon an Upturned Foot

and The Pile of Crêpes. At Ploumanach

two scuba divers, female, French,  

surfaced crablike and climbed the ramp

then unzipped each other with practised knack.

But we couldn’t find Napoleon’s Hat.

 

At our house I browsed the internet

and found it’s also a sexual position

involving a bloke laid on his back

beneath a pair of embracing women.

I’ve studied the photographs this way and that,

thought long and hard about going on back

but I just don’t see it myself.