Louisiana

Louisiana

There is a sound so faint at times
if you don't take a moment you will miss
this soft gentle rustle of life.

It is the blood of the south flowing
through the veins of her people 
coursing along so slow, so steady
like the Mississippi.

You will miss it if you rush, you 
will miss the smell of fried catfish
wafting in the air, tickling your nose
with the promise of a full plate.

There is a cadence, the ebb and trill, shrill
at times and then reaching crescendo with
sounds of the Cicada's mating in the trees while
the whole south is in attendance for their
love making.

Softly at times the wind moans as it
struggles to push arms fulls of sticky
black clouds across the bayous and
across the cotton fields to the North.

If you sit on the porch quietly you will
feel all this, it caresses your skin
as softly as the warmth from the Gulf,
and wraps you like velvet.

There is a flavor to Louisiana, a taste
of richness a blend that makes you want 
to lick your plate and ask for more.