Bordeaux Cathedral by Anca Rotar

Saint-Andre Cathedral, Bordeaux, photographer unknown.

Bordeaux Cathedral

You were gigantic
when I saw you there –
gigantic and subtle,
like the pink rose.
I was
the smallest tall girl in the world –
hiding from the beggar at the door –
he spoke my language
and I didn’t want people to know.
It was built over a mire,
which explains the difference in height
between the chancel and the nave –
it smells like burnt Templars,
it smells like tears
from the Franco-Prussian war.
And did you go up the tower –
I did -
Were you breathing in there?
Or did the walls fall in on you? –
they did on me.
From the top
I could see the construction site
at the edge of the city –
you were gigantic –
larger, even,
than the resting cranes.
It was a Sunday.

Anca Rotar

This poem first appeared at http://www.chrisdenengelsman.nl  and on the author's personal blog.

Anca Rotar is a Romanian-born writer of poetry and fiction. She was driven to writing by her love of stories and verse, as well as by an ever-increasing fascination with mysteries and the unknown. Her biggest complaint is that there are too many interesting things in the world and hardly enough time to discover them all.
http://ancaspoemsandstories.wordpress.com