1971
I took a long time to get ready.
I chose a dress, purchased the month before
at the Galeries Lafayette in Lyon.
The high-heeled shoes
matched the handbag.
She had said Bring a plate.
I was puzzled
but I thought it was de rigueur.
I bought one
in fine bone China
at Myers.
As it is required by French etiquette,
we arrived late.
Men wearing shorts and sandals
caps and sun glasses
stood around the barbecue
joking, smoking
drinking beer out of the can.
I offered one my right hand.
He looked at me
puzzled
ill-at-ease.
My hand remained suspended
in a friendly gesture
and then slowly
rose to my forehead
where it pushed away an imaginary
lock of black hair.
Women wore shorts and thongs.
They formed a group, laughing
chasing flies with their sun hats.
I offered one my right cheek.
She looked at me
puzzled
ill-at-ease.
I turned my face
slightly to the other side
to be kissed –
by the sun –
feeling out of place.
Yet again.
