By Dora Simpson
Sunlight streaks awning tops
spilling ink sketches down Rue Cler
as delivery trucks wrangle narrow
cobble and brick, side-by-side they purr.
Yesterday’s swine hangs upside-down
from meat hooks, stripped of its hide;
sides of beef with s-shaped, naked spines
drape over white, market smocks
as men shoulder the red flesh.
Their cigarette smiles mock
youthful vigor in aging frames.
Next door at Top Halles’ grocery
chin-dripping, ripe cherries and tangerines,
pears as sweet as roses, lemons and berries tease
the palate. Trees chirp with hungry mouths.
Two-wheeled carts thump. Parisian patrons
choose cheese cylinders and grainy, hard wedges
powdered white, gray, and burnt marshmallow.
Fish, clams, sea snails, and oysters
fill cases at La Sablaise Poissonnerie.
Bouquets of yellow, orange, and red cheer
pathetic troops of shrunken, bound shrubbery.
Sweet aromas rise on soft winds. Cappuccino,
chocolate, and croissants. Rainbows of macaroons.
Sunlight streaks awning tops
spilling ink sketches down Rue Cler.
Category: Poetry, SNHU Creative Writing, SNHU Student