Causing someone to follow in a foreign language
Je ne suis pas d’ici, I say
to the young woman who asks direction
but I do know where the rue Dauphine is.
Follow me, under your umbrella.
My French is broken and peculiar
and I am older. A heavy shower
though she’s uncertain binds us together
we walk in single file through the same puddles
and several times I stop to listen
if she’s following like Eurydice
this vocabulary-less Orpheus
not with a flute but a leading umbrella
and several times I turn to smile
and she smiles back as it thunders
overhead and people run
to shelter in shop doorways.
But I know the way as Orpheus did
past the market where chickens are roasting
and chestnuts and around the corner
and here is the rue Dauphine and here the Pont-neuf
and I believe I hear her say Voila
and Merci, madame, merci.
Au revoir. Au revoir, mademoiselle
and I glow under my umbrella like a peony.
©Elizabeth Smither 2004