
Photo-Artistry by kenne
I give to you a bouquet of flowers
in the name of my love for you
on this day and our days to come.
— kenne
Photo-Artistry by kenne
— kenne
A Desert Spring — Desert Chicory & Mexican Poppy — Image by kenne
I Want
all the poppies to bloom
a carpet, bright bed where
you could lie down. And if
I knew where you traveled,
I would cross the river,
climb unraveled banks,
ravines thick with brambles,
and pick their fruit. You might
not know these tangled
arms, but I would bring you
berries, plums, if I knew
your thirst sunk deep as mine.
— Wendy Barker
Zydeco Washboard (frottoir) Player, James (French Quarter, December 27, 2014) — Images by kenne
Boudreaux had a flat tire,
pulled off on the side of the road,
and proceeded to put a bouquet of flowers
in front of the car and one behind it.
Then he got back in the car to wait.
A passerby studied the scene as he drove by,
and was so curious he turned around and went back.
He asked the fellow what the problem was.
The man replied, “I got a flat tahr.”
The passerby asked, “But what’s with the flowers?”
The man responded,
“When you break down they tell you to put flares in the front and flares in the back.
I never did understand it neither.”