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Caption: |wander| La Nouvelle- Orléans un petite poem
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Caption: We're walking down that
sens unique . . .
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Caption: an arteriole branching labyrinthine out,
sentinel gas lamps lit.
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Caption: His terse Victorian
step persists,
a metronome
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Caption: past darkened cabarets and shuttered bars,
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Caption: past a lemon tree and hosts of banana leaves.
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Caption: And the stones crumble languid beneath the weeds—fugitives from darkened fissures.
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Caption: But a florescence has happened in the lazar's cadaver;
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Caption: Insistent carnations blossom
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Caption: and we feed on chicory & cane.
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Caption: Though the walls are taciturn as live oak always,
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Caption: creeping, supple vines wrought our synapses, a renovation.
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Caption: And then we saw:
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Caption: Dim and ember beneath climbing vines that cling rests still an incandescent nest
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Caption: where the spectre of
a whip-poor-will lives,
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Caption: a mass of feathers and petals, thatched of thorns & leaves
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Caption: that trills
anti-diluvian
verities,
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Caption: prehistoric
knowings
of a thing:
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Caption: That our bones are become boughs
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Caption: this body a verdant thing.
Caption: a lyric photo essay by Beth Kirby For a travel guide to
N e w O r l e a n s
visit
http://localmilkblog.com/2014/07/wander-guide-new-orleans.html INSTAGRAM | TWITTER @local_milk
localmilkblog.com
bethkirby.com