we will have prosecco with breakfast and squeeze oranges into a flute. shine our shoes and check the time, link a blue umbrella on one courteous arm: the storm is due for an hour past noon.
clouds pucker and blow, pale lid on a painted tin: powdered sugar cookies with jam, crescent moons of nut flour dough, dumplings and strudel and brandy capped preserves, salted with diamonds and granulated silver.
walnuts float to the top of my kaffee. ice cream melts to a rich, white foam. a woman rides her bicycle until her hair turns blue, glides past the windows of the pastel shops: a glossary of handbags and shoes of fine leather, bouquet of clipped rococo and buttons stamped from brass. out and about with an eye on the weather.