It was crowded there, at the Alliance
Francaise yeterday. If you got a chance
To catch a rare glimpse of the goings-on
Through the wall of bodies, some white, some brown
And all, all wrapped with a lush frenzy-
You would've been lucky. Or if you, like me,
Preferred wathcing the watchers to the watched
Then the play of light, many-hued, as it touched
A pair of still eyes, and from their depths drew
A swift torrent of music, to you
Would've seemed more enchanting by far
Than the somewhat harsh wail of the guitar,
Its nylon-threaded electric melodies
Paled by the dance of light in those silent eyes.
