This Monday for the haibun prompt, there are two choices. Memorable birthday and/or a full or super moon.
After dinner, the sun sets, clear night sucks the radiant city heat skywards. Cold north wind seeks exposed skin. I walk with Diane back to the Palais de Chaillot at the Trocadéro. In Montmatre, Sacré-Cœur gleams in resplendent white, full moon balanced delicately on the spire. The golden Tour sweeps darkening air with majestic dignity. Japanese tourists click non-stop, African migrants hawk souvenirs. Aggressive arguments, police merely watch. As I walk down Rue Benjamin Franklin, Diane at my side, Eiffel’s monument to progress teases with glimpses shrouded by buildings.
stark limbs denuded
nests clustered on slim branches
autumn yields slowly