a cold day in Paris

The poetry prompt is contemporary cityscape for Haibun Monday at d’Verse poetry pub, but shaken not stirred with non-traditional form. I chose the fib.

A Line 6 train of the Paris Métro pulling into Passy station from the east off the Pont de Bir-Hakeim in Oct. 2007.

A Line 6 train of the Paris Métro pulling into Passy station from the east off the Pont de Bir-Hakeim in Oct. 2007.

My wife and I check out. Hurry downstairs across the street to the café. He is waiting outside, a black man, we are white, we embrace. A poet friend met through my blog. An interview through coffee: he leaves for work, we have a train to catch. Around the circle to Rue de l’Alboni, past the swirling traffic and the blinking green cross. I hold her hand. I always thought New York was a fast city, but Paris… ah… the Gallic shrug, just this once, being an Ugly American would be justified. Instead, I smile and pull my leather jacket closer. I love trains. I walk east down the platform. The light is crisp, the iron work and glass, all sharp angles: I pause where the overhang meets the stone lattice on the building across the tracks. All the vertical and horizontal lines: I wait for the carriages. Rubber wheels silent.

Pont
de
Bir-Hakeim
reveals Tour Eiffel
wrought iron dominates bright sky

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56 thoughts on “a cold day in Paris

  1. I recognise Paris in your haibun, Brian. especially in the walk down the platform: ‘The light is crisp, the iron work and glass, all sharp angles:’ I love the way the Tour Eiffel emerges in the final lines of the poem section.

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  2. “The light is crisp, the iron work and glass, all sharp angles: I pause where the overhang meets the stone lattice on the building across the tracks.” The images and tone are so sharp here ❤️

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  3. I love the scent, details of the place and scent of cool air ~ Good for your to meet a fellow blogger Brian~ This is my favorite part:

    The light is crisp, the iron work and glass, all sharp angles~

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  4. “Around the circle to Rue de l’Alboni, past the swirling traffic and the blinking green cross. I hold her hand. I always thought New York was a fast city, but Paris… ah” I love that “you and me against the world” aspect of you and your wife holding hands.

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  5. There is nothing like Paris light! The pix of the train and station was perfect for the text.
    if you go back…you will find it very different I fear. But then again…once there….the similarities will jump back out. A sharp and lovely vision.

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    • Things change, the world has changed, but it is ever so. I am sure during the Occupation of Paris – any of them – the citizens said ‘you should have been here 10 years ago’.

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  6. iron work and glass…..and silent rubber wheels. Just think how different the train stations of Paris are to the raucous teeming train stations in India. Cities vary in their grittiness…in their way of being “alive.”

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  7. Geez, it’s been 40 or so years since I lived in Paris but this makes it feel like it hasn’t changed. There is a feel there that can’t compare with any other place and you created it. That bridge is not familiar to me and I’m guessing that somewhere along the line the name was changed.

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  8. Your dynamic prose made my photographer’s genes tingle, made me want to capture what you saw & shared so beautifully for my digital album. So much detail from such a short stay; remarkable. I get envious when poet bloggers meet in person, smashing the cyber glass ceiling, face time, yes.

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    • I think 10 years ago bloggers were more apt to meet in person. We met three other bloggers in London. I have few photos left of the trip due to the hard drive crashing as well as the replacement. This picture and maybe twenty or so others were posted on older blogs and thus saved in the cloud. I used to take pictures all the time, but w/ digital cameras sometimes the software is not compatible for uploading.

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  9. Pingback: where do you live? | There Are More Poets than Stars in the Firmament

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