Notre Dame

I watched Notre Dame burn,
saw memories go up in flames
of my Paris cat days
and taking mass
on a dry cold February day.
I lit a candle afterward
for my mother
as we walked back,
a flute, a violin and hope
in our young hearts.

I watched a spire fall
like dreams,
long ago,
looking at artists
chalk and charcoal
and sitting on steps
pungent smoke and smiles
and all those lost kisses
like a smattering of freckles
drifting and dreaming away.

Paris of my youth and hopes
I sift through the ashes
lost photographs of
friends and foe
of scores studied
and first loves
and last loves
and the loves not found
watched over by our lady

and like the phoenix
I believe she will rise
for another generation
who will face
the quirks and vicissitudes of life,
laughter always echoes
in the empty corridors
along with simple melodies
we played and then discarded.






Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 307 times
Written on 2019-04-16 at 13:49

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Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
Ineffably and poignantly beautiful. Thank you so much for posting this poem.
2019-04-17


josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
Elle, like you I have intimate memories of being in her shadow. You have set yours down in ways I could never do but I find yours a comfort. And like you I believe that she will rise once more to be another generations touchstone in the city of light.
2019-04-17


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Such a shocking, sad story. Notre Dame is the heart of Paris.
2019-04-16