Cafe Parisienne,
gilted fixtures gleam,
tired tilt, tabletop crash.
Nom de dieu! Broken glass.
A glimpse of baguette thighs,
smoke-filled Chablis eyes.
Hold me for the Bal-musette,
mon coeur, though we’ve just met.
Parc du Tharbor,
flower harbor,
rose-lined in remembrance.
Blooms as brand-new variants.
Petals protect the stem, then drop,
pruned in circles, a Gavotte.
In summer’s jardin
nothing’s wilding;
two steps, a twirl, a hop;
seeds for the next crop.
Vitré cobblestones,
smooth monochromes,
chimneys, terracotta pots
aged with speckled spots.
Passage Jouffroy stroll,
tilted 1920’s scroll
curves like a coquette,
thread and needle minuet,
moments unstitched yet.
Tracy-sur-Mer,
placid seaweed hair,
low-tide tendril beach,
shade and shadow out of reach.
Waltz amongst the whispering waves,
the flapping umbrella of a Forlane,
signpost flags wave fallen names.
Landing beach reeks
of camouflaged antiques.
A swirling, twirling dancing streak;
La Belle Époque for the week.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
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