At Midday 1973 Poem by Terry Collett

We'd been
and stood
by the Arc de Triomphe
had coffee in some street cafe

and Sonya
talked about existentialism
and Sartre and Camus

I sipped my beer
and watched her lips moving
and how she had brought
her blonde hair
into a fine ponytail

and the top
she was wearing
was nice and tight

and kind of hugged her breasts
and her eyes
so ice blue
I wanted to drink there
or maybe swim around

one creates ones own truth
she said
there is no objective truth

and I noticed how
she sat
the way her legs
were crossed

and how her foot dangled
as she spoke
sandalled foot
red-painted toenails

or there is also
the leap of faith idea
she went on

and I wondered
if when we got back
to our hotel late evening
and she was still sober
or I

whether we would
have sex and that
kinky foreplay
like we did late night
or that time
at midday.