Winter in Paris

Braying hounds of Hell

Gargoyles breathing down one’s neck

Quasimodo lives

________________________

Gray skies burst open

Drawn faces and pensive looks

Winter in Paris

________________________

passionate kisses

unabashed and sensual

bruised sky pours down love

_________________________

A pickpocket’s hand

makes it’s way into my purse

Every tourist’s dread

_________________________

Weary eager feet

worn cobblestones etched in mud

Vive la Resistance

__________________________

Who hauled these stones

and patiently carved the saints

are their souls at rest?

4 Comments

  1. You are so kind! Thank you. I appreciate your interest and commentary. I also love how WordPress is a way to connect during this time of upheaval (coronavirus, etc….). Be well.

    Like

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