Behind the Architects Crystal Lens
Musee d’Orsay grasps the hands of time.
The clock crowns; its gears move around.
Gallery-goers lookout and grin
from Paris-Orleans to Montmartre;
the clock crowns; its gears move around.
Each eye’s drawn from inside scenes
to the site of Sacré-Cœur without
then back again to the Degas.
Gallery goer’s lookout and grin
locked on the Place de la Concorde,
as the hand moves past a boat
on the still Seine, and the traffic
from Paris-Orleans to Montmartre.
Time passes; patron’s heads spin unwonted,
as the hands of the clockwork pass,
Monet’s lilies await—is there time?
*The Retourne a French form from the middle ages.
Published in Page & Spine 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment