In the high school classroom,
as I read the story in the textbook,
I’m in France with Guy and Suzanne,
basking on a sunny beach
or drinking wine in an outdoor café.

As French dance music fills the room
from the tape accompanying the lesson,
I find myself in the arms of a handsome monsieur
after a meal of chicken in wine sauce
topped off with chocolate mousse.
We whirl around the room.

The school bell’s clang jolts me back.
I rise, follow others out of the classroom,
resigned to being a teen-ager in Wyoming.