Last day in France

Art courtesy of Brigitte Monerie


At the sidewalk café
you call the waiter
with a detached s'il vous plaît,
order your Ricard, for her a Coke.
You don't watch the waiter
weave through chairs and tables.
"Why do you drink that stuff
anyway? It's bad for your stomach."
She smiles her j'aime ça smile
as if you were taking a photograph.

This is France on a Sunday afternoon,
nothing to do but digest your food.
It's the French way of life except
you're thinking there's a plane to catch
and don't notice the waiter.
Voilà, monsieur.
You drink your Ricard and
read the words on her Coke glass,
Buvez Coca-Cola.
She smiles her je t'aime smile.
There are some euros on the table
and you're 10 hours from home.