Pea soup sky and the breeze...

The slice of sky this morning
Looked like peasoup...to me
And the sun...like egg's yolk...
In the middle... afloat...

Peering out...
Felt the breeze on flow
There was something in the wind...
As if the lovely maiden Spring
Had sent her sister here...
She was swift...breezy...fair...
She must have started to work
To sweep the street...
Upon which some people walked...
Found leaves from different trees...
Falling running jumping...
As if they were happy to find Spring's sister...
As she had come long time after...

The breeze had the southern smell...
Of seeds...spices...coffee plants...
And valleys and plateaus...
Reminder of luncheon at Le Chateau...
Plates placed on tables of wood...
Glass jars on which with honey stood...
And fruits and mango juice...

The sky looking pea soup...
Made me a day to lose...

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