Breathless ends with a betrayal, Belmondo
sprinting from a cop
as Seberg runs her thumb across her lower lip
the way Belmondo used to.

If the sky falls now, Chicken Little,
it will fall on Saskatchewan.
Miles below our jumbo’s porthole
one ploughed road, straight as a line

ruled across a sheet of foolscap –
white, far as the eye can see.
‘Still Canada?’ Berlin dude asks me.
I feel queasy, as if the map

of my life unfurled beneath the wing.
‘Saskatchewan … where I was born.’
The wash froze on the line,
my Nan jotted that morning

in a diary I’ve stowed in a drawer
along with a wallet, gravid
with snapshots dad carried
through the four years of war.

Clear skies, our cheerful captain
announces, to our destination.
Time to watch another movie,
maybe Annie Hall or Gravity.

• From Hunting the Boar by Beverley Bie Brahic (CB Editions, £8.99). To order a copy for £7.19 go to bookshop.theguardian.com or call Guardian book service on 0330 333 6846.