Another poem written on-site:

Dernye Bistro

Where’s that rainbow coming from?
A spectrum on doorhandle brass
behind the cut glass just crept in
beside me where I sit alone,
keeping the window at my back;
wooden stool islands strewn across
black and white marble chequer floor;
white globes of light suspended hang
under revolving ceiling fans;
newspapers droop like sated bats,
coathooks await, with one lone hat,
a throwback trilby, on the rail.
Overhead spots obtrude top-down
on the period milieu
through the false ceiling; a volume
of Argentin’s ‘Reflections’
on the streetfront windowsill;
‘Cafe Depuis 1914’
inscribed below the countertop;
a lavender-filled ice bucket
by a bald patron on the bar:
immediate verbal portraiture
before the motif in real time:
who ever knew I could do this?