Big River

The Mississippi River at New Orleans, looking toward the GNO bridge. Photograph by Ann Fisher

Your eyes remind me of my river in the late afternoon,

Sun-golden and warm.

I once said so and you smiled.

I am alone now.

When the light of the setting sun hits his currents,

The river-god speaks to me, his child, voice low.

I bend forward, close over him,

My hands on his surface, feeling him move beneath me.

Forever I carry his sighs.

 

The visits back to New Orleans have been wonderful. This is for my Mississippi — amazing river that you are, Ann.

A trio of posts inspired by my recent visits begin here with To Miss New Orleans, about an old journalist who inspired my great love of the city.


 

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Copyright 1991 and 2016, Ann Fisher. All rights reserved.