First time in Paris

New Years Eve 1954-55 I hitch hiked to Paris with my mother.



Clochards under every bridge
No more

Horse heads outside horse butchers
No more

Turtles stacked in turtle-soup shop window, tears rolling down their eyes
No more

Buses with open backs
No more

Taxi drivers spitting at your bad French
No more

Irene on top of the Arc de Triomphe

Hitch hiking from Amsterdam with my mother, 10 years old and I had never been this high up before. The view down the boulevards from the Arc de Triomphe towards the outer arrondissments and infinity.

My Paris Walk

Paris

Crossing the Seine
on the timber board bridge
a Sunday
Parisian lovers and friends
Guitars strumming with laughter
Down by the river, boatwaves lapping water on the cobblestones
Poplar trees inscribed by lovers
Their history lives on in the bark