Paris in the Spring

We set out hopefully,

hitching our way to Paris,

in the spring.

And we made it, even

found the recommended hostel near Laumiere,

Though a little disconcerted to be

met with a closed door

covered in signs which read 

‘FULL’ in every known language,

we went in anyway.

‘Of course we’re not full 

at this early hour’.

‘Anyway, no one is ever turned away’.

They were planning a demonstration,

a rehearsal for May 1968, 

but of course,

none of us knew that then.

We could join if we wished, 

but of course,

we were too early,

even for the rehearsal.

It was only April.

Just three days

in April

in Paris.

We had coffee on the Champs Elysee

and were shown Notre Dame 

by someone we met there

and then sat on the steps of Sacre Coeur

to eat our French bread lunch.

We held up the traffic at the Arc de Triumph,

triumphantly succeeding in crossing the roads.

And at the hostel the next day

we did our best to be helpful,

getting up early (too cold to sleep),

and cleaned the kitchen and the floor

for the first time in many years.

Then we sat on the stairs 

and said ‘No Pasaran’ to everyone, 

until it had dried,

explaining carefully in languages we did not speak, 

why this was necessary. 

It was a just long weekend our April in Paris.

It felt like it would last for ever.

First published in Literature Today, Memories Anthology, May 2016

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