At the Café Clodine, life dripped
In slow degrees, du thés et cappucines
Warm smiles exchanged. Destinies couched.
In conversations. Brief & bright as spring rain.
A photographer flirting with a waitress.
That’s how it started. A light déjeuner.
She was far too practical for him, she thought.
Could see he dabbled with light and dark
Chasing life’s angles. She was simply ‘Claire’.
He photographed an old bicycle.
Propped up. Rusty pedals. Basket bent.
Called it his ‘chocolat de Paris’. Gave it to her.
And she became his Claire de Lune
Their music sweet. Marrying quickly.
She loved him with abandon
And laughed as a stranger snapped their photo
Outside the bureau of a justice de paix
Off they flew to the Apostle Islands
Where he said too much. Mentioned someone else
Just before. Wanted her to know, that’s all.
So, he said. But she became a broken mirror.
As if when looking at her he was seeing
So she had walked out. 56 months ago.
Perhaps she should have trusted more.
Believed. But he had never followed.
She tracked his photos in magazines.
Globetrotting vicariously. Caught in his lens.
Waiting. Wondering. If he happened to search.
If…The City of Lights had ten thousand cafés.
©2013 S. Michaels
Seven Love Stories – David & Claire