The Photograph | Destiny Poets

empty of people,
there is just light
on a rain moistened street,
the matinee performance
sans audience
sans plaudits;
The years before The Hindenburg,
their melange of sweet perfumed absinthe
memories subverted by acrid pyre gauloises
the looking-glass stained by unrehearsed
intimacies and unrestricted desires;
the scene transfigured
by the deja-vu lens;
the accordion player,
the newspaper vendor,
the grande dame ex-voiture,
the gendarme scratching his head,
the louche and the bohemian
confreres in delight
of the forbidden things,
fruits and spices and incense..
and there is just light
on a rain moistened street,
the matinee performance,
about to begin,
again.