Paree Dreams Poem by Curtis Goodnight

The cobblestones were dark and maybe wet.
And the road was Paris narrow
Like a Rue de Henry Miller
Seen from an Anais window.
And we delighted in the old authors;
in the new musicians

One hand held a bottle
The wine may have been uncorked
Small matter.
Pleasantly high
Post dinner
In our leathers.

Your arm draped cross my shoulder
Bon amis we were
Old soldiers and war stories
Past lovers
future characters
Who can say?
But the cobblestones smelled of fresh rain
And we were laughing.