sans queue ni tête
chicken or egg
spring fever sprung a leg
prancing to mouloudji’s les rues de paris to quench a thirst
an annual wandering-wondering burst
starting out
at sfo, mon 
père encore sprout
an exhibit of sewing history
led bout of bardspout mystery
dressmaking intertwining
a marathon flight movie viewing
“albert nobbs” 
story most intriguing
followed by “the vow”
rita thornton’s chosing to stay with philandering hubby
“for all the things he’s done right; not the one thing he’s done wrong. I chose to forgive him” was my insightful wow
“beauty and the beast”
the gist of the yeast of hell
love breaks spell
forms of love salad dressing
covering scars needing healing
stripped naked from memory sheath loss
testing love toss
sending my mind reeling – who is really boss?
then as if to cap confusion and illusion
a cafe philo “is the mind a slave to the body?” reaching no conclusion
my day ended with fruition
at saint germain des prés metro
a defining moment in retro
roving over a children’s books display
my eye caught “poèmes-sans-queue-ni-tête” which sums up my day!
pretty much resolves the quandary of mind versus body, which master to avail?
a neither head nor tail tale