Paris

“ A lay monk….lays sprawled
                          like a knight in effigy.”

                                                           Wislawa Szymborska

 

 

Café, wine stores on the left bank. Summer.
When all the tourists came.

Feet and hands along bridges,
laughing into water.

Stillness of paintings in the art galleries.

Lights on. The restaurant where Van Gogh painted his
Starry Night came alive.

Chatter with drinks, filled with food.
Flooded. Cobblestone streets.

A single bicycle with a young girl,
long hair flowing under
lights,
her legs pumping, with the night.

The seine. A shine of shimmering sheen.

While feet and hands
reflective, came together.

Wings fluttering. In shadowed.
Night’s light.

 

 

 

 

 

d.n. simmers is a special on line editor with Fine Lines. He is in current issues of Poetry, Salzburg Review and The Common Ground Review. He is in six current anthologies. He is in upcoming issues of Red Savina Review and Paper Nautilus Review and is on line in Riverbabble, the Potomac and Wilderness House Literary Review.