Tour De France

Sir may I lend a hand?
May I take your cane?
Careful of the curb, here we go.
Put away your cup, turning down the lane
Listen to the squeak of the bakery cart
Leaving a trail of breadcrumbs
Do you hear the laugh coming from the priest?
He has crinkly eyes
Looking through the glass focused on the feast in the grocery window
There’s a display that is three melon slices deep
As children walk out the door holding sweet lemon ices
Sweet lemon ices
Blind man:
What was that?
An envelope opens
A cat in a hallway
A filament flashes, flickers, and dies
And there goes a hat
Thrown in the air
Thrown in the air
I can feel every stranger in Paris
Just waiting to collide
How a heart can pull like moon as we circle each other
Then crashing together
We end up open wide
Here where the buses stop you can find a kiosk under staples and glue
Now the barbershop, now the laundromat, now we’re at the metro. Adieu!
Blind man:
Wait! Tell me your name!
Goodbye!
Blind man:
Goodbye. Thank you!
I can see everything clearly now from here!