So many metros today,
and many a street by foot.
Paris is still warm but people and their babies have dressed in their full winter garb.
I say a little farewell to Paris tonight, and wrote a poem on the train.

Dear friends
Forgive me now, as I am half of me.
Half here with you,
in your garden of Europe,
your seasonal playground.
Forgive my heart and its waning and waxing,
its absence.
This time has been full, and Im tired,
I need my home again, it calls me.

Forgive my heavy bags,
the weight I carry to your door,
Am I seeming impatient?
Its important for me to be present now,
and to do this I may turn down your wine,
and enjoy you in sobriety,
for with a clear mind shall I paddle onto this next wave.

You are not seeing me in the full power of take off,
but the slow release of a prepared landing,
onto shores where my heart is known and shared and waited for.
Sit with me,
in this brief time dear friend,
as I am tearing myself from my tomorrows and yesterdays.