Madam
She totters alongin her high heel shoes
past the charcuterie
where Monsieur Axonge
looks on, fingering his moustache.
Today, she will sit in the
café with her friend
celeste and they will
sip coffee and feed upon
sweet cakes, while
watching the people of
Garden City
go about their business.
They will talk of old times
frown at young girls
in jeans, who rush into
the arms of lovers
similarly clad;
she will pause, just briefly
to wipe the cream
from her mouth
as beneath the table
she will remove
her shoes.
there will be no mention
made between the two old friends
of what it was
to be in love
and when she leaves
replete
she will pass
Monsieur Axonge
and never see the
twirling of his
moustache
Poetry by Elle
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Written on 2016-03-06 at 19:35
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