Pagliano scooters maneuver in traffic,
trench-coated cyclists slice between cars,
women in high heels navigate cobblestone streets,
Watch out!
The bus, the cab, the bike won’t stop?           
                           It’s Paris!

At night a neighbor returning from work
shouts into his phone while climbing
the circular stairs to his place,
passes our second floor room.
Our room, its windows open to night
and noise, to cigarette smoke that drifts up
from the street. Pigeons coo, sit
on slate roofs and the ancient church bells
chime through the night.
It’s 2:00AM, in animated French they fight,
rev up?
                          It’s Paris!

Garbage pick-up, it’s 6:00AM,
debris and broken glass crash,
the truck rumbles down Rue La Roche
announcing Wednesday in Paris.

Today will it be Marais, Montmartre
or Champs-Élysées? Who knows, who cares,
                          It’s Paris!

© by Norma Bernstock.
Used with the author’s permission.