Joie de vivre ou bonjour tristesse?
A man walks across the parking lot,
His shadow long and thin and bent.
He walks with purpose, but not too fast,
As if he's in no hurry to get bent.
The sun is shining, but there's a chill,
A hint of autumn in the air.
The man walks on, his head down,
His thoughts a million miles away.
He reaches his car and unlocks the door,
And gets inside. He starts the engine,
And drives away, leaving his shadow
Behind, to linger in the parking lot.