Last weekend I was in France for a brief weekend away. There is something about being in a new place that makes you open to ideas, I kept scribbling notes down the whole time.
This is a reasonable draft but not the finished article.
He sat down
at the
next table,
began
editing papers
written
in neat
long hand.
We
were holiday lax, loquacious,
lippy
with the wine.
The
freedom of being in another country
had
set us
talking ten to the dozen.
Suddenly
it occurs to me
he
could be writing down our every word,
for
he’s turned the paper over
and
is scribbling hell for leather.
Then
I wonder if we’re worth such an effort.
As
we stand to go for the bus,
he
packs up and shoulders past,
into
the rain and the twilight.
As I have said before, it is good practice to write what you see around you.
It is easier in new surroundings.
Here's Bill Withers, a man who makes it all look so easy.
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