Thursday, April 24, 2014

La Fourche Paris

Worn out by Paris
shoe leather thinned
by ancient cobbles
nerves hectored
by strained tongues

We nested in the quiet
of a sitting room
hidden from avenues
and myriad bistros
calling our names

The destination arrived
at by way of hard work
lucky dart throws
age benchmarks
and the winds' blow

We pondered the questions
who are we
what are we to do
the philosophy of life
crystallized in decisions

Or merely one choice
not many

When coming upon
the fork in the road
recall this:

il n'ya pas de cuillère

there is no spoon.

Copyright 2014 Femme Malheureuse
@ApparatusMag #NaPoMo 2014 Prompt 24
Graphic: Bobby Acree via Flickr

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