Surrounding them,
flown in from anywhere,
were currents laced with silk,
soft to the skin, pleasing the eye
the taste of mother's milk.
They had rejoiced,
held hands in silly dance,
and kissed with hungry lips
wet melancholy tears,
the glance of France.
They stand there to this day,
saliva glued to rough-edged tongues,
la Seine flows silently
to reach the frigid sea,
don't stop now, spring will fill your lungs.
Gray clouds rolled off the ridge,
and thunder's dissonance embraced
the arms that beckoned to their sky
rain drops unite beneath their only bridge
but none can give the answer to their WHY.
Herbert Nehrlich 2
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/why-847/
