Glass walls sparkled
against the sun
blazing there
on the corner of
a famous square
in The City
as we entered
the ornate
old building
oozing grandeur
and charm,
the orderly
elegance of
very expensive
things set
the stage for
our destination:
the rounded
respite called
The Rotunda,
a place not to
be believed
a circle of
leather backed
seats and white linens,
waiters silently
filling the chilled
water glasses
sweating with dew,
we ordered something
wonderful, small
and perfect for
a tea room,
but more to soothe
the savage brow,
and settled in to
reminisce about
girls and their
mothers, shopping in
fancy places
like this,
once called
The City of Paris,
when it shone
like a
lighthouse with
the huge Christmas
Tree that graced
towering corner
windows, awesome
amazing and scary
for a young girl,
using those proper
manners and sitting
up straight,
we thought of this
while we ate the
scrumptious morsels
they call lunch,
lost in a world
long gone, watching
the throngs outside
having found
a place to hide
just for a moment
we reveled in the
past, making
new history
into memories.



©J.W.WINSLOW 10/1/09