Notre Dame at twilight

Dusk comes gently
           in the city of light
where the shadows soften
           as they gather around
the charred ribs
           of the wounded cathedral

Pleasure boats continue
           to the ply the river
but the passengers
           are subdued
passing beneath the bridge
           with barely a sigh

And along the quays
           lovers stroll hand in hand
Who knows what promises
           they make when they pause
either to kiss or to gaze
           into the clear grey waters ?
And who knows what promises
           will be kept ?

John Lyons