Farewell to Paris
The arched bridges will always be there.
Across a branch of the Seine
on Ile St-Louis
those narrow streets will remain
and old, tall beautiful homes.
In the bookstalls along curving quays
we found long-lost books
and rescued them.
In open-air cafés we could drink
wine (Sancerre) and munch oysters;
view the river as Sisley painted it:
lovely barges, bustling tugs,
great elms on stone banks,
plane trees and poplars, pushing
back any loneliness.
Afternoon light, writing stories
in a favorite sidewalk café, while drinking
a café crème. Knowing time
would stretch out and let you
get everything done that you needed
to do in your life. So much
we learned by watching
the long-flowing Seine.
Saying goodbye to a city is harder
than whispering adieu to a lover.