After the Fire

A Rimbaud

Under bronze blankets

his feet stick out for her rest.

Summery boredom.

Violin

Curving left, bent right,

violin and Charlotte fit,

feeling the same vibe.

Friends

Huddled stones speak low.

Not even the River knows

their secrets and fears.

Le Grand Signe

Jenga-like, rough stone

planks intersect families

scattering their lives.

The Shield

Probing pipes cross arms

not wishing to say too much,

proxies for man-beast.

Anticipation

A surging cyclist

slides past a strolling woman,

both seeking cool shade.

Renewal

A stone bateau-mouche

hugs Île de la Cité, green

before the ruins.

After the Fire

Flying buttresses

undergirded by wood arcs

care for the burned church.