Pontchartrain from the Balcony
A Memory
There was no ocean to shore, but a lake
rippling with minnows, catching the moon wings.
Sweeping the sand, humble waves of the estuary
winked purity— my sole kissed one, dripping.
Our fingers hugged each other, the white sand free
of moccasin trails and shrieking white birds.
Stone bridges reached, accusing New Orleans,
pressed our feet, mocked our balance, stole
our words. I smelled sun and gulls and saw high water
drowning accusers, numbing the oak moss,
white sand becoming dark underwater.
Breathing the same air as lizards and moths
we burned in the absence of canopied skies
in a land of mules, pretzels and your eyes.
About the Creator
Mackenzie Davis
“When you are describing a shape, or sound, or tint, don’t state the matter plainly, but put it in a hint. And learn to look at all things with a sort of mental squint.” Lewis Carroll
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Copyright Mackenzie Davis.
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By Raise Your Voice by Vocal3 days ago in Resources
Comments (7)
I like the mix of nature and man, and thought it was interesting how it switches to present tense with "we burn in the absence of canopied skies".
Still can't believe they built a causeway right down the middle of it. Always meant to drive it but didn't have the time when I was last in New Orleans. I loved all the references to wildlife in here, especially the moccasins line. What a great way to recontextualize Lake Ponchartrain; we humans view it as a brackish backwater on the doorstep of a great city, but the animals don't mind it at all. For them, this is a cornucopia.
Stunning! Has the glossiness of memory, but the grittiness of a captured reality! Could work for the This Is How I Remember It Challenge too!
Update 7/11 Republished from a couple years ago. For the Light Breaks Water challenge.
This is an amazing piece, and very descriptive.
What a beautiful and mesmerising piece! Well done!
Beautifully evocative and rich with imagery. Gorgeous work.