I went to see her.
Paris, on a grey autumn day,
Not raining, but a hint of moisture in the air.
She was there, in her room, as she was every day,
Holding court in her own controlled environment.
Her room was crowded.
A lot of people had come to see her that day,
So I wasn’t able to get close enough
For any intimate reflections.
All I could do was admire from afar.
I think she smiled at me.