Haiku From France
Two lovers
kissing
Sunday
Luxembourg Garden
They know
nothing else
There are no
baguettes
To be found
outside of France
All else is
just bread
Le Jardin des
Plantes
Abloom as the
day retires
Late sun warms
my back
Anticipation
Eager as the
rising dough
Of a fine
baguette
Les Chiens de
Paris
Confidantes
and contents
Ils nous
ignorents
Rue
Saint-Honore
Where
pretension has a price
A mendicant squats
I have lived
here twice
Once before I
was designed
Encore
maintenant
The organ
grinders
Fill the
morning with their songs
March’e a
Dimanche
Paris has blue
eyes
That see style
in all things
Flamboyant and
small
The images
waft
Lighter than
surrounding air
Linen in pink light
Low in the
water
The fisher
returns at dusk
Net filled
with the catch
A clear
morning sky
Peace beyond
understanding
No wind stirs
the day
To ride a giraffe
It's best to be a child
On the carousel
Beneath fair
Paris
An iron
serpent hisses
Humans in its
maw
The last
leaves tremble
Over damp carious
piles
Withstanding
winter
Au revoir
Paris
Remember the
love we’ve shared
Hold me in
your heart
In the
gloaming light
Strings
resound in Saint Chapelle
Stained glass
glows with song
Realm of kings
and christ
Gilded
monuments of faith
Shaped by poor
hard hands
Once full and
verdant
The days are
dry and brittle
Cracking under
foot
At the
boulangerie
Pain au raisin
swirls delight
Mon dieu!
C’est Plaisir
Normandy
whispers
A reassuring
story
Of Mont-Saint-Michel
Far away they
sing
Under the
light of the same stars
Colors come
and go
Leaves fly
through Paris
Cast by the
howl of autumn
Then float
down the Seine
Like a patient
dog
Even when the
door’s open
Home will wait
for us
Away from the
chic
France
disrobes a fertile breast
Of pastures
and fields
The slow
Norman cow
Bespectacled
and herdless
Turgid with
sweet milk
