AT THE BISTRO

Having a spinach croissant
and German rolls
my aunt prepared
within our coffee klatch
speaking up
at the microphone
near the Bistro bench
up in Vermont
reciting the French bards
Baudelaire,Verlaine
Valery and Eluard
then reading
my own quatrains
quoting my maxims
translated into Spanish
after feeding the birds
hiding from the snow
I'm feeling like Saint Francis
with an anointing
in the spirit of a jazz poet
sensing a metamorphosis
of sax riff notes
from vanishing the quotes
of my words.