Friday, July 16, 2010

#213 The Survivor




That was the year
we wintered in
Montparnasse. The 
ferry, I remember, 
was empty apart
from us, might never 
have sailed except 
its skipper lived 
on the other side 
of the river & she 
wanted to get 
home that night. Up-
stream was thick
with forest. There
were fireworks 
somewhere. I heard 
them, but I did not 
see their bloom.

2 comments:

Poet in Residence said...

good shot!

Serge Duval said...

The issue is not the survivor, image is the issue