(inspired by Lyon, France– August 2018)
I rest on the banks of the Saône,
watching dragonflies skim the river like silk
too fast to capture their ephemeral flight
slipping desperately between fingertips
as I attempt to grasp at the last of September’s day.
The basilica looms across the banks,
white marble stark against the setting sun
it’s a prayer to immortality,
to write this summer into a novel,
a story with no end (amen)
to ride out any inkling of a fantasy,
hands touched by paper and pen,
perhaps even skin
by an Indian summer.
© Rebecca Goes Rendezvous, 2021