A taste of Provence:
Lipstick on an afternoon aperitif glass,
Black chalk, board scrawled menu:
Aubergine, d'ail, courgette, poivron rouge…
Polka dotted cloth,
A golden glazed pot with herbs.
Strong hints of lavender,
Rough stones made smooth with wear,
Wisteria begging to bloom,
Bench waiting for conversation.
French cannisters:
Farine (flour) for the croissants,
Cafe… au lait!
Poivre (pepper) Pepper? Pas Herb de Provence? Mais non.
Blue shutters with a street lantern.
Not opened, not closed might mean one or two things…
Someone is taking a nap,
or keeping cool from the sun.
Escargot.
Outside.
Collected after the rain.
Annie opening her window after a long 91st winter.
Neighbor bringing strawberries from Carpentras.
Cezanne's muse.
St. Victoire under a Provencal sky,
with the Mistral chasing the clouds on by.
What is a taste of where you live?
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