France
Enough of the virtual world.
I walk for tangibility, to see the
newest green and space between.
I know the life of a town is in the
interpersonal dramas of its
people and that all I see is the set.
But at Combs-la Ville, 25 miles SSE
of Paris, I have passed through all
the furniture. Now an arcade of
actual trees, a hundred tall syca-
mores, makes a canopy for the groom
in love. And I delight to sense them
sense each other, almost touching,
leaving room above
Written walking through Paris (May 2001)
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Copyright © 2001 Art Garfunkel