1962. Sagne

80. 9 September 2021

(missing an accent, so pr. Sanyay)

This is like the murals in the cafe which have probably been painted over now.

It was a busy place, with a glass counter at the front

And a marvellous window display of croissants and tarts

And cream cakes and bread and meringues and chocolate

And marzipan made into dogs and cats and hearts,

A jewel-coloured shiny profusion of cakes,

With boxes stored flat, and biscuits and petit-fours,

And busy people in white jackets making boxes

And gently putting in cream cakes with more

Tissue around to stop a sad crash

And ruin of a cake. Then the box was closed

And tied with ribbon saying “Sagné.”

*

There was a lovely smell of cakes and bread,

But also of espresso and cigarette smoke.

Every little marble table was taken.

Gentlemen drank espresso, kids had Coke,

Ladies chatted over capuccino.

Babies stayed outside in prams in a row,