a weekend in paris

we came upon paris early in morning- with the rain. 

the next three days went by quickly, blurring and running into one another. 

cold hands, lovers wrapped around one another under birch trees, a corner cafe to rest and coffee to warm, running around the louvre alone and tripping up the stairs, a woman selling chocolate eclairs- her hair in pin curls, the last bus home on a late night, laying on the grass under the eiffel tower, sleeping on a bench under the eiffel tower, eating bright pink cotton candy under the eiffel tower, old men selling beautiful old books with woven covers, sticky sweet macarons from laduree, more rain, sitting at the window in marie antoinette's bedroom, little parisian school children who wave hello, and walking through and in between streets with names i couldn't pronounce. 

yet with these... sunsets, that somehow recall

my buried life, and paris in the the spring,

i feel immeasurably at peace, and find the world 

to be wonderful and youthful after all

- T.S Elliot