open doors on the streets of paris
how the streets shine at night
after an all day rain
lost in the city of lights
you walk for hours on end
this language is not your own
but translates easily into
living and breathing poetry
complementing misty air
there is warmth in the most
unimaginable places
but somehow you manage
to find temporary solace
you arrive here as planned
but become lost over time
your final words a resting place
recorded for all to hear
october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
How lovely! Nostalgic.
thank you, Lola
Terrific poem! I love the use of language as central image, kind of a meta-cognitive poetry!
thank you, Alan – I appreciate the read and feedback
Well done J!
thank you, D.J.