À la recherche du temps passé

Written as an exercise at the Poetry Business Workshop on 27th May 2017

The town is Pacy-sur-Eure in Normandy.

À la recherche du temps passé

I'm here again, I know I was here.
In this petite ville en France
where, as a boy, I culturally exchanged

I know it is here and it seems familiar
Le café, la mairie, the tricolore 
languidly waving over la place
to gently remind us of its symbolic power

I hear the unmistakable sound of the language
I so nearly speak
I catch words and phrases
As my mind catches the images of schooldays

Philippe and I; here, probably;
then I wonder where he is now
and did he have similar vague souvenirs
of a mining village and unfamiliar food

I know I was here, and yet
it resembles so many French towns
dotted around like tiny planets
orbiting the shining City of Light

Smells of coffee, Gauloises, pâtisserie
evoke and poke at my memory
Yet somehow it evades,
its shadowy form defying coalescence
as if fragmented by time

The bells sound in the church
the boy rides past
the men argue jokingly over their beers
and I must leave

But I was here, I know I was.

(c) Tim Fellows 2017