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                       Les feuilles mortes
The autumn leaves in Paris, which I once knew so well
Youthful days so long ago, memories shiny as silver and gold,
where the Seine still gently flows.
Notes of: “I love Paris” drifting in the autumn air,
 sidewalk cafés, and young lovers everywhere
Dancing to the sounds of an accordion playing... "Les feuilles mortes”
in the streets of Paris in the year of 59, partaking of a carafe of sweet rosé wine 
Those were the days of laughter and magic moments in time
We thought they would never end, but end they did…fifty years ago!
Now here I sit, listening to the autumn leaves as they sadly fall,
wishing I was in Paris for this autumn’s beck and call.
Jackie R. Kays
© 11/20/13
                     






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