Paris in two days
Is the tower
the arch
the shhh of the metro
the coffee in the bar
the boulevard walk.

The art and architecture
the traffic and noise
the beggar with a rose.

The standing still to stare
at the view from the steps
and where to go next
to tick the box
of we’ve been there.

Paris Metro
Between the noise, the shake and the doors
opening and closing, between the silence
and the noise of a thousand strangers

in the space of a step in a corridor
on the way to somewhere or back
there was the music we heard,

the singing of strings and movements
of arm, elbow and long fingers dancing
where we waited a moment and listened

as the noise of the people and the doors
and the trains and the rush of the air
became background to the music

and time was for a moment unimportant
for a few like us two, who stood together
watching and listening until time broke

like a spell and as silent as we came together
we left again and joined the trains and noise
and closing doors and lives with things and

places we needed to be as the lights flashed
in the tunnel and somewhere behind us all
a string section played on in a different time

with others like us, who though we were gone,
each kept a moment to use when we closed
our eyes and the noise was too much.