in the shadow of notre dame beside the river
i watched as machine gun tour guides passed
the pickpockets and the weary pilgrims.
a baby cried in the tree lined grove in the
reaching shade of the gothic spires.
papa comforted and mama signed for peace.
accordion street beggars traded talent for cash
on foot bridges above the river and below the temple.
they made euros of their tired fingers.
i wished for a cool breeze in the hot parisian sun
none came but i thought i heard a seagull,
which was really just a pigeon looking for love
in the deep shadow of notre dame above the river.