Winter Walk

Winter Walk

I scream out your name on top
of the Eiffel Tower, hoping that
my voice will reach out to you.
I come back to Paris each year, just to do that.
Afterward, I take a stroll down
the same street,
the same alleyway,
the same route,
that we have walked last time
we were here on vacation.
I thought I could run into you by chance.
But during the stroll,
I can’t help but to notice
how much of the scenery have changed.
I wonder
how many years have Paris aged?
How many seasons have passed her by?
Does she even know
that it is Winter right now, waiting for Spring.
I thought it is kind of ironic,
how I can see you everyday in my dream,
but I can only meet you once a year,
every time I pass by your grave,
while wandering up and down these street.