Paris Old Mosque

Tired, we wander once more
botanical pathways
comment on crows, seeders

pens holding red pandas
lazed asleep on logshade
the flowers press forward

out the back archway, then
basically clueless, we
wander around grey streets

Til up jumps the old mosque
with its blinding sun skin
we pass to shade where birds

& humans eat & drink
mint tea, seeds & pastries
we sit & read, watching

this crowding. Tile-glazed square 
dappled, shimmering. The
afternoon flutters off.

Published by

capuchin

Send your life out in multiple directions like a galaxy shedding stars. Always come back to hope and try to thrive. All posts, (poems, stories, essays, etc.) here are composed by my hand, unless noted otherwise. Please ask if you'd like to use one.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s