You are a Parisian bridge
stretched flat across the river,
wearing coat woven from twilight.
A dexterous muse waits to play the violin.
You sleep with a palette where paint
forms its own exquisite solar system,
colored drops revolve like planets
around your invisible sun
until you wake on this night and paint us
over the moon’s surface.
An ethereal avalanche
some will only recognize as moonlight
shines on hills and steeples.
It is our bliss
You and I give this city light.
Those bleeding hearts you impetuously picked
graze my veil as dabs from a dream
before falling slowly into the river.

Gina Ferrara
from her book Ethereal Avalanche
Trembling Pillow Press, 2009

used with permission of the poet