Lockdown, Nice France

Lockdown, Nice France

by Mary M Payne
          
Early I walk on a road without cars

Daring the macadam,
no need for the sidewalk...
then home I flit beetle-like through the garden,

through lush tangles of yellow greens,

garnets and purples.

I toss smooth stones,

Fat as Parker House rolls

Into a pile, alluvial harvest
from a glacier harrowed hill.
No home for them now, 

the pile grows great,
monument to torpidity.

And now lunch, “plein air”

beneath the bay tree 

Grilled duck breast

sautéed mushrooms 

Dusky as old piano keys.

A toss of Italian plum tomatoes, then later,Clementines from Spain...

Shining torpedoes of acid sweetness.

If the virus comes, 

All will be otherwise.
but today dappled with delights,

is a colorful child's pantomime.
Tiny creatures tune their instruments 

An overture to April spills forth.

Lemon gowned butterflies shepherd us to our seats.
The lights go down. 

We wait.