Montmartre
The harlot on the hill
Her perfume
of garlic and Gaulloises
sour in the Sunday afternoon.
~
On the Rue Laitiere
A promenade of bustles
where, from under lace parasols
Working girls glances
Survey the field.
~
In the Moulin de la Galette
The thin man in a hurry
Eager at the canvass
Licks brush on palette
and gives Estelle her eyes.
~
From a third story window
Lissette leans on her elbows
Smiles at the sunlight
Sighs with the memory
of yesterday’s lover.
Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 1:06 PM UTC
Montmartre
The harlot on the hill
Her perfume
of garlic and Gaulloises
sour in the Sunday afternoon.
~
On the Rue Laitiere
A promenade of bustles
where, from under lace parasols
Working girls glances
Survey the field.
~
In the Moulin de la Galette
The thin man in a hurry
Eager at the canvass
Licks brush on palette
and gives Estelle her eyes.
~
From a third story window
Lissette leans on her elbows
Smiles at the sunlight
Sighs with the memory
of yesterday’s lover.
A poem on Renoir’s painting Moulin de la Galette.
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