details Montparnasse Cemetery, Paris.
These days a little crazy, a tiny enchanted.
Eleven o'clock train and time to watch a bit of country.
The mist on the Canal Garonne. The vineyards of Bordeaux. The branches that are cut. Poitou. Its fishermen busy. Freshly tilled land. The clouds of lapwings. Steeples Beauce. And Paris. Paris for twenty-four hours. To celebrate my new year.
Diving with pleasure in this city life, rubbing shoulders with a host of thistles and cocks, vibrating to the sound of bagpipes, walk between the theaters of the Gaite Montparnasse to the cemetery. Montparnasse Cemetery, its gentle colors faded. Oxides, the rusty. The bronze sculptures and a little fresh air.
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