The third poem celebrating a week in the heat on the Cote d’Azur.
Full of Prosecco I watch, dull,
As a young girl with long hair held down by Princess Leah headphones, does TaiChi on the sand in front of me.
She is thin, dressed in black and absorbed in the nature that surrounds her.
She thanks the warmth, the weight and the movement of life autour as she
Extends and contracts out to it and back into herself.
She is alive. She is alone.
I raise my glass.