That Night in Montauban
There is the port down there
jammed with pinkish boats–
they ride the silver tide
up and down up and down.
It’s quiet here.
There is the mountain hoarding the sun’s gold
to no very clear end–
it gilds the little waves.
The lanterns hang a-swing
like hand-rolled stars
everything orderly,
the laws of the sky–
we were never there, not you nor I
let us dance, dance like we did that night in Montauban.
I follow my star
I don’t much care where
over mountain peak
or to the dump.
Following a star can be fun, you know,
supposing many lovely side-shows,
so it’s westward ho, till it’s gone, then,
on the road till dawn:
then, we had the princely choice
to fold into ourselves
or just go down to dinner
you loved me, i could tell by your voice–
let us dance, dance like we did
that night in Montauban