Sometimes Found by Night
Set in postwar Paris, Sometimes Found by Night uses fragments of memory and conversation to evoke the strange intimacy of love. It was published in The Legendary.
Type – poem
Publication / Venue –The Legendary, Issue 66
Publisher – The Legendary
Publication date – 2015
Format(s) – print
Available at – unavailable (publication defunct)
About this work – Set in postwar Paris, this poem moves through fragments of conversation, memory, and sensory detail to evoke the strangeness of intimacy. Wry, tender, and slightly surreal, it captures how affection can form around small misunderstandings, private habits, and oddly memorable moments.
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Paris, 1947
He, too, was struck by the pervasive scent
of onions and the ghastly cost of the war.They danced in a discothèque
while deer strolled through the woods.He watched her drink coffee
with a sugar cube between her teeth.He invited her for a walk, and she cried
Stop! But it was only a seagull.
Not a cockatoo.They enjoyed eavesdropping in cafes.
Once, on the street, he heard a soldier ask,What day is this? And
she replied, I don’t know. I don’t live here.He worried that she might find him dull,
she had, after all, no gift for opera.She said he swallowed loudly.
But not all the time.There was a certain comfort.
Later, he would ask his bride,
Why hyacinths? And
she would reply, Because marigolds smell like dying bees.
