by Little Camilla Jean
In New Orleans,
they throw beads
from the wrought iron balconies,
and didn’t I get pretty ones?
Purple glitter in the party night.
Right away, I got mine (that’s right)!
Because my eyes shone with radiant light
and my smile was wide and bright.
I guess my face was just a sight…
from falling in love with you
(even though it wasn’t right).
And later, your friend,
who was in love with me,
gave me the wooden yellow beads
with little smiling faces strung intermittently,
and I wore them in the humid daytime,
and the clicking sound of beads gently in my ears
as we went about
was my greatest delight.
For me, it made the whole city right.
New Orleans… city of beads, day and night… ❤