All The Women In The Place de la Abbesses, Paris, March 27th, 2011.
All The Women In The Place de la Abbesses, Paris, March 27th, 2011.
a song.
It's as if they all decided,
It's like they all agreed,
And every one of them was beautiful
Indeed.
It's as if they all conspired,
And picked this time and place,
To synchronize for a moment of perfect grace.
It wasn't sunny,
It wasn't cloudy,
It was something in between,
And every one of them
Was beautiful
Indeed.
And all their boots and skirts and pants and hats,
Their blouses and purses and this and thats,
All of them, all of them, perfectly matched.
And every one of them
Was beautiful
Indeed.
And the one with the rust colored hair
And the one in the wheel chair
And the one hunched over her phone
And the one standing alone
And that whole giggling girly bunch
And the one eating her sad lunch
And the one with too much make up on
And the one with not enough
And the one with all her shopping bags and stuff
And every one of them
Was beautiful
Indeed.
The old, the grey, the tall, the tan,
The one leaning perfectly against the taxi stand,
It was as if they'd all conspired and impossibly agreed
That every one of them
Was beautiful
Indeed.
It wasn't sunny,
It wasn't cloudy,
It was something in between.
And every one of them,
Every single one of them,
Each and every one of them,
Was beautiful
Indeed.
Paris, Spring, 2011
