by KJ Hannah Greenberg
C’est l’amour, n’est pas?
Hot chirping, coers de papier,
Bangles, gin-dashed pomegranate
Juice: debauchees pari passu.
Next door, nuptials pari passu
Picnic: shared ripe pomegranate
Seeds, exchanged coers de papier;
Valentines. C’est l’amour, n’est pas?
{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }
Oui, ou non? peut-être?
C’est compliqué, l’amour.
L’amour de près, l’amour de loin,
déchire le cœur.
C’est compliqué, l’amour, n’est-ce pas?
Kristina,
Kristina,
Am resisting to reply in my high school French –– would get it as wrong now as I did then. Thank you for, as always, posting a comment of worth.
Amicus poeticae,
Neal Whitman
Kristina:
Whether one is matriculating through college, changing diapers on wiggly children, or counting the gray in a partner’s beard, love remains complicated. Nonetheless, without such connections, our lives would be bland in the least, meaningless, at most.
Blessedly, I’ve shared all of those stages with the man about whom I wrote that poem.
Channie