Paris for Breakfast This dreary morningI am at the Les Deux Magotsin Paris, sitting inside, my aching back pushed againstthe burgundy booth, squaretable over my legs like a shield. For sustenance, I order Le PetitDéjeuner Hemingway: eggs, danishjuice, and a café latte. I double-palmthe small white, branded coffee cup like it’s a puny cauldron filled with magic. I… Continue reading POEM A DAY – March 23