Yesterday,

I watched Notre-Dame de Paris,

burn.

What a sad sight.

I love Notre-Dame de Paris.

I have never been,

I might never go.

And, yet, I am attached to it.

In my Parisian fantasies, I walk,

the banks of the Seine,

I browse the book stalls,

I stop and think,

I breathe it in,

Notre-Dame,

street artists,

the weird quirky shops,

dogs everywhere,

the punget smell of Gauloises,

the pleasant aroma of coffee,

baking bread,

buying ham on baguette,

walking where Hemingway and Stein,

Man Ray and De Beauvoir,

have walked,

always with the colossal,

Cathedral as backdrop.

They will rebuild,

it is not just a church,

it is so much more,

it a symbol,

of beauty,

of grandeur,

of reaching to touch perfection,

of reaching for-

God

Be well all,

Later girls,

BB

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