Paris – at Last
She steps on to the plane, a window seat
for the first leg of her journey, a flight
to dreams she has held for so very long.
Reality melts into consciousness,
no longer fantasizing, she takes off.
Paris, put on hold – for love, for labor,
for years as her life shifted, adjusted
to the whims and desires of others.
She pushed aside study for a marriage;
she delayed the rendez-vous for a birth;
she tossed away whimsy for another.
The stale of airport coffee and popcorn
disappears, replaced by café au lait
and croissants as she lands at last – Paris.


Perhaps in Paris

She will find the elusive
those that perch on the edge
of awareness,
tease her
with possibilities … opportunities
lost only to be found
in sleep.

Perhaps in Paris –
when at last she arrives,
they will be waiting
in the sunrise
over a sidewalk café,
on a park bench beneath the trees
in a small park square – the one with all the pigeons
and the old men who mumble
and grumble
about young love,
all with a twinkle in their eyes
memory curving their lips to a smile.

her dreams will drift in
through an open window
with the sound of lovers
forgetting the world around them.

Perhaps in Paris…


On the Shore

Stretched out
languid on the shore
of the Seine
his lean body shimmers
in sunshine
oblivious to boaters – world gawkers
staring from the top
of the Eiffel Tower
and the garish orange seats
of Parisian vessel.


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