Monday, July 20, 2015

A Poem: "Tour Eiffel, Dusk"


On this broad, green lawn, this garden
Between busy Parisian neighborhoods,
Boys swing bottles, cheap wine,
Half-heartedly peddling summer nights
As a towering monument to a city
And its revolution keeps vigil.

And the rest -- we the many,
The peoples of Europe and Asia and Africa,
The children of other revolutions and stories --
What new revolutions will turn our hearts
To the delightful coloring of this Parisian night?

What new revolutions will turn our days
To sacred dance, and the spinning of seasons,
And the slow, deliberate preparing of meals:
Shared and tasted and cherished?

I suspect these new rebellions will
Not be captured on a thousand cell phones,
But brushed out instead like Van Gogh
With his palate, or the cellist I know
Bowing to wonder, or the lost and
Happy drummer on the sidewalk,
Pattering and pounding, restlessly calling,

Until all of us in this Parisian garden
Are dancing and rebelling and joining
The grand revolution together.