Au Cimetière du Père-Lachaise: by John Looker

It’s not for the grave of Oscar Wilde we’ve come,

nor Chopin or Marcel Proust, though many do –

as if a photo of oneself against the tomb,

grinning, would give their works the honour due.

Turning our backs on this we have a view

right across Paris from up here on this ridge:

morning shines on the Seine and on the roofs

and life rushes on, just water under a bridge.




Enjoy more poetry by John Looker on his blog HERE

John has also recently published an excellent collection of poetry entitled: “The Human Hive” with Bennison Books

By bonniemcclellan

Mother, poet, american ex-pat from Texas living in Northern Italy.


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