Paris,1945 Poem by Bernard Henrie
Paris,1945
Did I mention the shy blanche of grapes
I fastened to her coat?
She gave a fountain pen on a silver lanyard.
We ate our breakfast with abattoir workers
in Les Halles, onion soup and fat strawberries;
accordion music for free.
We had bright cat eyes only for each other.
We refused to rest; the blue streets
cold as the Greenland ice cap.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
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4/26/2024 7:20:35 PM # 1.0.0.1119
