Beau Soir

inspired by debussy

I remember those French

paintings of oils and stains

on the canvas up high.

Stone vaults in the design

of converging arches.

The architecture was 

divine and you were too.

And the candles ran

down the aisles, some

waiting to be ignited

by the saintly

or by the passionate.

I cannot forget the

voices. The night sang 

and the cobblestone

was wet; the snow had 

melted.

Maybe the candles

had softened it.

Author's Note

was originally entitled "I Rememeber" but I decided to name it after the song that inspired it. Beau Soir translated to Beautiul Evening. A perfect fit.

Reviews

[Echo]

This is a great piece. I love the way its soft but still has this lingering sense of, 'what if?'
The only thing I could think of that I would maybe change is the title, haha.
But I still adore this poem.