Tuesday, February 01, 2005

paris snap

the pen so cold
snow is edging the city
and wind test the monuments
their verdigris work of the soul

there will always be dancing
at the bar americain
though the tongue freezes
without speech
and all along the boulevard
people press their lives
into the sounds in their heads

there's something tender in stone
the cold frees it
the living stand with flowers
and feel the coming sleet

water is more than rain
there's no sleep beyond the night
and now is always interruption
sweeping away the leaves

I cover my head
where the cold falls


snapped 25 Jan Cimetiere Montparnasse


2 comments:

Stuart said...

Hi Jill

I really like this poem, especially the verse:

there's something tender in stone
the cold frees it
the living stand with flowers
and feel the coming sleet

I gather from the note that you wrote it about the Montparnasse Cemetery in Paris. The poem really breathed Paris for me. Thanks.

stuarteglin.blogspot.com
stuarteglin@hotmail.com

Jill said...

Hi Stuart, Thanks and, indeed, I am in Paris and have been visiting a few of its cemetaries - part of a larger project. Best, Jill