Bridges, Le Pont Neuf

We see a world of bridges
over one river,
pavement the color of parchment,
and openings like windows
where sunlight
dares to dart through.

Somewhere in Paris there is a bridge
where love takes hold
and never lets go.
There are love locks left behind –
bonds of metal
chained to the bridge –
here forever.

If I stare at the water long enough,
I see a stone with my name on it.
Each time I look,
it is a different stone.
Each wave's golden reflection
speaks of opportunity –
my hand an open lotus flower.

Somewhere in Paris the river waves to me
with a hopeful shine.

Cristina M. R. Norcross
Oconomowoc, WI, USA
Donated to the French Red Cross (IFRC)