the girl from Cherbourg

 A girl in Cherbourg

We sat in a bar in Cherbourg a town still struggling after a war
to become just another French coastal town
Sitting with mates from the ship can be tedious, and if you
happen to be a cook, someone is bound to voice a complaint
I went for a walk, in the streets, with few lamps if one adds rain
it was a road suffering after a long war.
In the murk, a place of light, a small café/shop, a few tables
looked inviting in its simplicity; I had coffee and calvados.
A filly came prancing in, tall with long legs, full of youth
Sat down at my table; I asked if she was hungry, and she was
and ate a big plate of stew.
As things are in life, we share a bed for the night.
While she was busy preparing the bed, I sat in a chair thinking
about a short story by Hemingway
about a boxer who owned money to the mafia, and they
were out to kill him, he was tired of running.
I tried to alter the sad ending, but must have fallen asleep, when
waking it was five in the morning, and I had to get back
to the ship, my day started at six.
I had a coffee and a calvados to sustain me she the filly
ate a baguette; saw her dance down the street, followed
by the morning breeze promising her a life of happiness.