Waiting On The Left Bank Poem by Suzanne Hayasaki

Here I sit
At my favorite table
At that famous cafe
Overlooking the Left Bank
Watching plein-air painters
Dab vivid pigments on canvas
Attempting to capture light and shadow
In deep purples and brilliant pinks
As critics walk by mocking them.

As always you appear precisely at nine
Spectacles perched precariously
On your prominent Roman nose,
Focused so intently on some newspaper review
That I fear you will trip over a poodle
And take an accidental dip the river.

Because you refuse to notice me
I act with renewed resolution
Calling out “bon jour” to you
In my flat American accent.

What you make of a woman
Sitting alone scribbling notes
On napkins and scraps of paper
Your face does not convey.

You try to place me,
To come up with my name,
But the night we met
I was in lace and pearls
And surrounded by girls
Much more alluring than I.

But courtesy requires you to sit.
Your order café and baguettes
And play nervously with the brim of your hat
As you search for something appropriate to say.

I let the silence settle in.
I give you a moment to gather your wits.
And then I ask how your sister is
To give you a hint as to where to begin
What I hope will become
A love affair.