Paris encore

The rooftops light up like every morning;

Her charm intact, untouched for a thousand miles.

Stone shimmers on like white wine in the sun,

But it’s clear she’s missing a half smile.

The same assortment of mispronounced roads

Leading to the same architecture ‘artisanal’.

But less foreign gasps at the much postcard-ed views;

Less people to watch and directions to tell.

She is strong enough to move on but worries

That the wound will fester and the pain won’t end.

But as she dusts herself off and takes a step at a time

She’ll only see a scar that reminds of her strength.


One thought on “Paris encore

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s