Avignon glimpse - poem by Bill Wootton
A diaphanous white curtainwafts as if waved by an unseen handrevealingwrought iron balconiesat eye level,then mistingbare linden treesin the cobbled square below, where a girl sitssunning her legson a café chair,smoking Winstons ferociouslybefore accepting a questionfrom one of two young labourersin shorts and workbootswho has come upbehind her;waves her hand,mutters something in French,stares straight ahead,exhales,waits:un, deux, turns,snatches up her handbag and smokes,arcs off in their direction.
- Bill Wootton
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