Une nuit dans le Quartier Latin

A Night in the Latin Quarter ~ Une nuit dans le Quartier Latin

I stroll the crooked cobblestone streets of the Quartier Latin
bathed in the golden glow of thousand sulfur lights of jeune,
The midnight sky above Paris an inky blue satin scarf
studded with diamonds from Cartier
or possibly zirconias from the tourist's gift shops.

I pass clusters of students recently released from classes at the Sorbonne,
ils parlent en français, gesturing with hands blurred in movement,
and continuing past the green stone dragons
being slain daily by Saint Michel,
their clear, cold blood arching,
splashing darkly into the fountain below.

I stop to rest at a small Greek café tucked into the edge of a corner
where a waiter with liquid eyes appraising spoke Farsi to me
under a backlit canopy which blocks out the stars
but not the voice of a small child singing sweetly off key
"Au Clair de la Lune" in French in the apartment above.

I pull out a chair at the tiny table for one
covered in the requisite white linen and single rose in a vase
slide off my ridiculously high heeled Parisian pumps
and order an Evian, salad, and a VanGogh to go.


© 2007 Inner Beauty