Church bells from the high clouds swinging sunlight
Through the branches swaying stair rails
Gleaming star-crossed parents passing
Red and gold brick streaming
Past the corners of my eyes.
Facades crumbling cement beavers
Flying through the phone lines swooping
Foliage flinging fire beams on the
Signposts cross-street depanneur fruit
Sun-blanched beer ads rusty latches
Lingerie stores pigeons flapping
Personal mobility carts roll by
Exhaust green grass cigarette butts
Between the asphalt patches.
And now I’m by the river rushes
Near the ducks and park above me
Plastic playground seagulls
Circling strollers strolling
Children who will say:
“Verdun you know was very different
In my day.”