Cobblestones

A Poem for "C"

Photo by Jean-Baptiste D. on Unsplash

Sometimes

I think of Hemingway

and his fourth wife

Mary

before she was his fourth wife,

walking down war-kissed cobblestone streets in Paris

past the Luxembourg Gardens and the Louvre

dancing with the end of everything

And I remember us—

and our outlaw love,

how nothing matters

when you’re together,

alone

in a world at war

with itself.