there’s something cozy about paris in the rain.
drizzle, rather.
the glistening zinc rooftops, the early dark
make me want to settle in, shut down,
look at lit windows and imagine the home inside.
it must be cozy in there. i bet they’re eating something delicious.
comforting.
soon i’ll be in my home, my windows invitingly lit, warm smells coming from my stove.
porcini ravioli, spinach cream sauce, wish we had some garlic and parmesan,
but it will still hit the spot.
rhubarb poached in blood orange juice and brown sugar.
warm, atop vanilla ice cream. maybe.
inspired by a fortune cookie:
a noria turns buckets.
in the rain
everything stops.
take a deep breath,
and just.
slow.
down.
duties,
jobs, recipes, phone calls, address changes, photo editing
can wait one more day.
tonight,
it’s me and the stove in this borrowed apartment
in paris
in the rain.
On this day in 2008: Fish Stock Use #1: Seafood Risotto
Originally published on Croque-Camille.
Ab
Ac
I. Just. Heart. You. I long to have the courage to put my poetry on my blog – thank you for being inspiring. More? More beautiful evocative Camille poems?
Beautiful! Captures the essence of Parisian rain.
Camille – that’s simply beautiful.
I’m hoping this means you found a really great apartment?
Hannah – Thank YOU for the encouragement.
I don’t find myself inspired to write things in verse very often, but I know it can be habit-forming. We’ll just have to wait and see if more are in the offing.
Jessica – Thanks!
Fiona – We did, but as the kitchen is being redone (yay!) we’re staying in a vacation rental until it’s finished.
So evocative. I think I feel like that most nights, not just rainy ones.
I am happy to say I have now experienced Paris in the rain–and your description is spot-on!
Ann – I know what you mean.
hungry dog – Thanks! I’m glad you’re happy about the rain!