IN A PARIS CAFE

In a Paris cafe
in the late dawn
with a coffee latte
near the Sorbonne
suddenly it starts to snow
in shadows of the alley
as icicles are forming
rainbows on the gutter
and my friend Guy
at the hallway window
listening to my jazz riffs
from my alto saxophone
with his shining eyes
on the windowpane
he's always a wise guy
and starts to utter
lines from Michaux.