You can always go back to Paris.
Planes and trains to get you there.
Choose spring. By far the best.
You can stay a week a month.
A feast of galleries museums.
Treasures that await your eyes.
You can stroll Paris in the rain.
Its cobblestones in the wind.
The magic of an evening mist.
Yes you can do all of the above.
But never as that young pilgrim.
Never that first arrival in Paris.
Early dawn as you walked from
the Gare du Nord to the steps
of the Opera to watch the city
breathe its initial bashful light.
A one time in your brief time
streets awash in sunrise gold.
