My beloved late husband and I
once strolled down Bourbon Street,
on a mild winter's afternoon.
The musicians enchanted the
atmosphere,
as sparrows lent their own songs.
We dined on gumbo al fresco
with friends,
Spanish Moss clothed ancient trees.
It wasn't yet Mardi Gras,
but we felt so festive,
with her old-time buildings
and eccentric people,
all those years ago.
This New Year's Day,
New Orleans mourns again,
her heart...
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