last afternooon


    We sat at the oyster bar at Felix’s
    in the middle of a N’awlins afternoon,
    eating fried food and listening to
    the Chi-Lites, the O’Jays, even
    Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes
    sing Seventies soul as the smiling
    shucker offered up oysters and
    opinions, both free of cynicism.

    From there, we wandered through
    the shutters and smells of the Quarter
    to Café du Monde, restaurant of the world,
    for beignets and café au lait while
    a street-wise incarnation of Sam
    Cooke sang for smiles and tips.

    This is the last afternoon of our first
    twenty years: who knows how many
    thousand and six hundred minutes
    have added up to our story of two
    common hearts, but it is a tale best
    told in the small scenes that say
    life with you is better now
    than when we first began.



    1. A sweet tribute. My husband and I “met” in New Orleans — both there for a glee club (“choral directors”) conference and sang amazing Mozart and Heidiger during the day, then wandered Bourbon Street by night. We just sort of “fell in” together on a carriage ride with 20 of our closest high-school friends. We wandered off to have dinner in a smaller group, and the rest is history. Married in ’76, celebrating the birth of our middle child, our poet and Earth girl, today, April 22. She is 26, and in love with her sweet young husband. All is well. Good work has been done here. Thanks for sharing this, Milt.

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