Bourbon Poem
NEW ORLEANS Where Living Is So Good
I heard a man playing the saxophone
on a street corner in New Orleans
Down in the French Quarter
where past and present
sinners and saints mingle
Crystal notes so clear I could almost
see them dancing in the sultry Louisiana air
like an armada of angels sailing down
through the cloudless blue sky
to gather the faithful and carry them away
in their vessels of B flats C sharps and As
He stood there an integral part of
yet a separate entity from the bustling city
which spawned him His head thrown back
eyes closed A look of incomparable ecstasy
and contentment playing across his face
A silent look which spoke volumes
Saying for this moment in time
when the beauty of music I created
fills the hearts of people around me to overflowing
Living is so good
I saw crowds spill onto the sidewalks
from the establishments lining Bourbon Street
Revelers being thrust through opened
windows and doors by the force of the music
erupting from darkened interiors
New Orleans Jazz The eclectic
one of a kind blend of Cajun sass and sex
that echoes from the rafters
ricochets from the clouds and sings out
Living is so good
I watched a funeral procession
in Lafayette Cemetery Number 3
on a rainy Sunday in New Orleans
A horse drawn hearse
bedecked with vibrant flowers
Somberly clad mourners following behind
Their feet keeping time to the rhythm
of top-hatted musicians stepping alongside
Mourners with broken hearts and crying eyes
Tears and rain plopping onto the pavement
Singing with voices trembling in grief
Singing “When the Saints Go Marching In”
For in their sorrow lies understanding
Living is so good
Even when you're dying
By Monterey Sirak
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