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.