Sunday’s streets mostly silent
I hear the leathery leaf of a plane tree fall
Now Saturday’s night is done
This is how life used to be
A day of rest, officially
When even clocks seem to pause
But Metro lines, buses and trams
Still running efficiently
Over the viaduct a TGV rolls
A slow start
This is a time to breathe
A gentle stroll
City parks, the river promenades
Come into their own
The carousel yet to turn
Boulouger rises early
Flower stalls bloom
A street market unwraps
Churches’ heavy doors let in light
Let out dust and gloom
Street cleaner already vacuuming
While dog walkers stoop
Still having to pick up the mess
Their dogs don’t get Sundays
.
n.b. Yes, the old clock wasn’t working. It was 08:00h when I took the photo.
CLP 25/11/2019
