| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
by Afaa M. Weaver1
I was parading the Cote d'Azur, hopping2 the short trains from Nice to Cannes, following the maze3 of streets in Monte Carlo to the hill that overlooks the ville. A woman fed me p?té in the afternoon, calling from her stall to offer me more. At breakfast I talked in French with an old man about what he loved about America—the Kennedys. On the beaches I walked and watched topless women sunbathe4 and swim, loving both home and being so far from it. At a phone looking to Africa over the Mediterranean5, I called my father, and, missing me, he said, "You almost home boy. Go on cross that sea!" 点击收听单词发音
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
TAG标签:
- 发表评论
-
- 最新评论 进入详细评论页>>