The room had damp walls and hard seats,
the people though,
mostly middle-aged ladies and elderly men (like me)
smiled warmly and had lenient eyes.
One by one they arose reading poetry
in a language I don’t understand very well.
Polite applause for each reader.
Poems about peace,
stars at night,
lakes and lazy rivers.
Later we drank lemonade and coffee.
Looked for the bar but it was closed.
Then we shook hands
and dreamily parted,
a pity Laura Bush wasn’t there.