Paris Street, Rainy Day

Authors' notes: This collaboration with Ma8grets3weaknesses was sparked by NewOldGuy77's admiration for Gustave Caillebote's painting entitled “Paris Street, Rainy Day,” which, in turn, is also the title of this poem. Caillebotte was an Impressionist artist who was inspired by the linear perspectives of Japanese woodblock prints. His broad perspectives of street scenes lend themselves to speculations over the people portrayed, as we have done. Caillebotte is not as well known as his contemporaries, for he led a less colorful life. He did not live in Montmartre, residing instead, in a country house, nor was he a habitué of the Paris night life. A very wealthy man, he was not dependent upon his art for a living and pursued several other avocations. There is now a resurgence of interest in his work. The Chicago Art Museum has this particular painting prominently on display.
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People scurried, but one couple tarried.
Locked arm in arm, beneath an umbrella,
they did not look at each other.
They seemed downcast, weary and troubled.

One friend wondered what had befallen them.
Were they lovers, saddened to part
or had they been at an all-night revelry?
This she speculated to her friend.

Abruptly, they entered the same café.
She overheard them and to her chagrin,
they were siblings, fresh from a special mass,
in honor of a deceased parent.

An observer renders a tranche de vivre,
which evokes many possibilities.
But what is seen is what one wants to believe,
which oft doesn’t fit with reality.

L'Homme
Her companion rolled his eyes, pursed his lips,
“Your dreams are wild again,” he said and sipped
The third cup he’d had of le café serré,
To give him some warmth, despite the weather,
Piqued by his friend’s blatant curiosity
Of the sad couple out in the city,
Their faces downcast, as grey as the skies
Their bearing – rigid – as Notre Dame’s spires,
“Leave them alone,” he said, in a whisper,
“Today, their grief is what only matters,
Not your rash dreams or wild speculations
Of them…or their romantic condition!
All your ideas must be held in check,
And, please, your thoughts on them, do not project.”

L’Femme
"I look upon people differently.
Their bond is more important to me.
Why do they share affection or sorrow?
No one who sees us together can tell
if we're just friends, lovers or a bored couple.
For we do not touch or sit quite near."

He looked at her shamefacedly.
He reached toward her and they embraced,
a common scene in a Paris cafe.
Love overcomes even a cynical man.
That is the bond that unites them.