Les Souvenirs et Les Reveries ~ Memories & Reveries
recalling France
Motoring solo
through the immense, silent,
parted heart of the forest
of Chinon.
The birdsong air
of the country shopkeepers
bonjour—ing and au—
revoiring.
Taking café au lait and croissants
on a mild Autumn morning
on a pea-stoned patio ankle-deep
with jubilant ducks and geese.
Slowly sipping glasses of cold rosé
under an awning-striped umbrella
on the Ruhl Plage, musing on
the glinting waves in old Nice.
The buttons of goat cheese served
from a wicker tray in a Gigondas vineyard,
tasting of fresh-fallen pears
the goats fed on, there, in the orchard.
The ear, air and chest-filling ringing
of great cathedral bells,
summoning up centuries
of history and sacred mysteries.
Promenades, along the Croisette in Cannes
creamy with sea-light,
the Tuileries gardens, tinted with Autumn,
the sidewalks of Aix-en-Provence ladled with summer.
The purple hues ofMont Ventoux,
thealléesof trees, the cobbled squares,
the well-swept streets
& sunwarm plaster walls.
The spirits of the Impressionists, Expressionists,
Fauvists, Monet to Matisse to Derain,
present everywherein theFrench
landscapesandlightscapes.
The handsome faces and bass voices
of white-aproned waiters, in bistros,
restaurantsand cafes, from theSavoieto
theCôte d’Azur, Cassis to Paris.
The way the Parisian women
of any age, especiallyun age certain,
carrythemselves, so assuredly
so beautifully.
Buying hats, tres belles chapeaux,
for my dear, dark-haired wife,
and thatindeliblephotograph of her
through a high bistro mirror, wearing one.
Wandering throughla Ville Lumière
asavery youngflâneur, talking with strangers,
watching a buildinggoing upin flames,
crossing night-quiet bridges.
Floating under glass down theSeine
to the strings of a harp,
andflowsof good wine, food,
starlight andbonhomie.
Playingpétanquewith bright silver balls
in the courtyard of a Loire Valleychâteaux
where I stayed for an enchanted time,
highup in afairytaletower.
The miraculous ice cream soufflé
at Fouquet, on the Champs Élysée.
The table of lovely young ladies, aside
mine, the only other, at Le Chien qui Fume.
The Promenade des Anglais.
The Seine, the Hall of Mirrors,
the Places des Vosges,
the Gare du Nord.
The opening scene of
Mamoulian’sLove Me Tonight,
Jean Renoir’s Grand Illusion,
and Jacques Tati’sMonsieur Hulot.
Listening toCharlesTrenet sing
La Mer, andQue Reste-t-il,
Tino Rossi singGuitare d’Amour;
Bizet’s Pearl Fishers duet.
Je t’aime toujours.
The joie de vivre,
the je ne sais quoi.
Each pas de deux.
Savoring the many streams
of memories and
marvelous reveries.
Vive la France.
Colin Goedecke
Watch Hill, RhodeIsland
December 2020
