The Shop in SohoMadmoiselle Maigret and her detective
father outside the Algerian
coffee store on Old Compton Street:
in a culture of parkas
and hoods, his trilby stands out –
he a smoker of pipes, she
in tights and blue shoes.
Together they look
at the coffee makers, closely, considering…
a gift for Madame Maigret.
While she goes in to pay, he regards
this Soho, as if a Kasbah.
Alone on the pavement, he stands for Bonjour;
he stands for au revoir;
he stands guard
for Parisien Savoir,
for self respect
and the daily grind,
for love and the love
of the smell of ground coffee.
For tobacco
for Mystery,
pour La Vie.
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4 comments:
Reading this sweeps me away from my present thoughts and concerns, now hovering at a place and at a particular scene that could have been a previous, or a second, life. ;) Thank you for this respite.
Many thanks for visiting and for you insightful comments. I was indeed fortunate to observe this scene and am glad it strikes a chord with you!
Wonderful, redolent, I can smell it!
Many thanks, Lucy. I think you would like this shop and its contents.
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