I was born on Bourbon Street
Where music flows
over 200 year old sidewalks,
slick slates broken
under thousands of feet.
There’s a word never said
that invites ghosts
who carry me out
to the center of Lake Ponchartrain
where I can stand
head and shoulders deep
within the soft currents
until finding the sea
at last light of day.
Time is cruel. It carries me
back – just when I’d forgotten
that things end
and so seldom return,
flowing in long sliding rhythms
like the beat of drums,
pounding below the surface.
6 thoughts on "I was born on Bourbon Street"
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A poem with chills! Love the image of “slick slates broken/under thousands of feet.”
Thank you.
long sliding rhythms
like the beat of drums,
pounding below the surface.
How evocative! (PS I’m happy to see you!)
Happy to see you also! This June exercise really keeps the juices flowing.
Worst places to be born, just sayin. 😏
I have a picture of my mother with her pregnant belly painted for Mardi Gras.