Pirate Alley, Jackson Square, New Orleans (December 28, 2014)
— Photo-Artistry by kenne
Clouds hide the morning sun
cobblestones still wet
from a passing shower —
the poet is sighing.
The cathedral bells ring
pigeons flying off
leaving their home —
the poet is sighing.
I can lose myself
in the French Quarter
in an endless embrace —
the poet is sighing.
The deep darkness
of alleys behind iron gates
guarding tropical courtyards —
the poet is sighing.
There goes a jazz tune
from a lone musician
not seen, but heard —
the poet is sighing.
We make our way
down to the square where
artists hang their painting —
the poet is signing.
Morning life in the square
repeats again and again
the movement of generations —
the poet is signing.
A child of the mist
catches my attention
in my camera’s eye —
the poet is signing.
We bookmark each moment
looking at you again,
Renaissance and me —
the poet is signing.
— kenne
Reblogged this on Becoming is Superior to Being and commented:
In Lake Charles overnight on our way to New Orleans for a few , returning to Houston Thursday.