Croissant crumbs over the zinc. <br />Turn the cup and pause. The stains in the saucer <br />Murmur in the morning. Take another sip. <br />Watch the women pass. Heels crack the pavement <br />Lightly. Parisian calves tempt the sun out <br />But it resists. Greyness remains with nothing <br />Of the fable of mist about it. Lines are <br />Less than elegant. Less than expected. <br />Turn the cup again. Wait for the kick <br />Wait and wait.<br /><br />Richard Blanch<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/paris-in-the-spring/
