In Paris and Beyond

In Paris, we walked–through Montmartre, perhaps–
where people carried baguettes under their arms,
like my mother’s purse. Look, my parents said,
there, the Seine, the Mona Lisa, the Eiffel Tower—

and they glanced through guidebooks and at maps
for lost love, and Paris’s hidden charms
rekindled their passion for only a moment instead.
As the bells tolled the new year, the passing hours

my older sister read, and fed us scraps–
the story of the Danish prince; no harm
in telling this story of ghosts, the dead
return, my mom still sits amongst the flowers.

For dVerse, an attempt at Rimas Dissolutas.

74 thoughts on “In Paris and Beyond

  1. You have my heart with this one, Merril! 😀 Especially moved by; “and they glanced through guidebooks and at maps for lost love, and Paris’s hidden charms/rekindled their passion for only a moment instead.” Thank you so much for adding your voice to the prompt! 💝💝

  2. The last line touched my heart. Wow! This poem feels perfect to me.

    We visited most of the sites in Paris but missed Montmartre. That’s okay.
    Thanks for the virtual visit, Merril!

    • Hi, David–The poem is about a trip my family took to London (I wrote about it in a poem published in Black Bough Poetry) and Paris when I was ten. It was over the Christmas holiday. We were in Paris on New Year’s Eve. The photo is from a few years ago in Philadelphia.

  3. Absolutely beautiful and breathtaking in each line. I’d love to visit Europe one day, and Paris is now on the list. 😀 I love how you took us on a glimpse of this trip, it just sounds so mesmerizing, heartfelt, and special.

  4. A beautiful exercise in the form, and one which speaks so eloquently of how our memories are one of the few things that always remain ours.I love Paris appearing almost as a magical being in this, capable of filling us with her own qualities..

  5. Wonderfully touching, Merril!
    Sometimes I have a dream. When I wake up, I realize everyone in the dream has passed away.
    It’s like I spent a day with the dead.
    It’s sweet that your mom sits amongst the flowers. I don’t where my mom sits, but she is in my dreams, usually with my sister (rip).

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