Tuesday Poem

 

Snapshots from Paris

1.

Full moon

and on the street

an argument in a different language

but its sounds the same:

you don’t you don’t you don’t.

A dog barks sharp

and high because that old peeping tom moon

has swum through his window.

2.

That moment – crossing the bridge where the Seine divides;

Notre Dame, the tourist boats, a bride’s dress

making a flurry of light on grey stones

and opposite the shock of orange shutters

shading eighteenth century windows.

3.

Outside the gates of the theatre

a small campsite grows slowly  ̶  from one tent

to three, a cardboard cave and

a Rottweiler who doesn’t seem to like

where he’s washed up in this city.

I give my change to the women with children –

as short-leashed as the dogs on these foreign streets.

4.

Monks and nuns cross the rue Geoffrey d’Asniers

sandaled feet humble on the cobbles

while at the Memoriale de Shoah

a tourist guide waits as her flock

stare at the unfinished list of the dead.

5.

Today I saw a new husband tenderly gather up

his wife’s wedding dress as though it were all the children

they would have and he had to carry them to safety.

6.

Seeing the photos on Facebook, kids will ask their parents,

but did you know her?

It was just the way they were so small,

do you remember, darling?

Notre Dame loomed behind them.

She took her stilettos off and walked in thongs

from one photo to the next. Her dress glittered

and she did, spilling over his arms.

Were we like that

do you remember?

 Catherine Bateson, August 2013.

 Check out the Tuesday Poem blogspot - this week with a witty, affectionate snapshot of the changing world we live in, 'Where' by Paula Morris, edited by Renate Liang. Do scroll down and see Renate Liang's own poem, 'From Where' sounding a darker counterpoint to the same question. 

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