Sunday, July 17, 2011

words describe

that song fills my ears
and always reminds me of my trip
to the southland
cajun french
and mardi gras

that long drive across The Ponchartrain
is clearly set in my mind
walking on top of the levee
and crawfish mounds
daily ferry rides,
making my way to the French Quarter
red beans and rice

a new friend, who showed me
Watchman Nee
many words traded, then
she's faded
into the heart of the night

later, my lone trek
across Texas and Louisiana
that reporter who wrote that letter
to my mother, as my proxy

The music gives me comfort
a feeling of home
when I wasn't at home
a feeling of something to grab on to
to hold
though it wasn't mine

but I'll take the feeling
and hold it close
as one of the gems
of my life

© October 2010 by Marc McCune