Last night I watched the Eiffel Tower’s reflection

golden the Seine as the sun

went down, bouquinistes
padlocking riverside stalls.

Sometimes I stop

outside bakery windows
study the meringues

small cumulus clouds

captured in glass.
I’m getting less lost every day.

Now before sleep my mind replays
not yours, but the train announcer’s
promise: Opéra,

Saint-Lazare, La Défense…