art
Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Entering Paradise
It was bright, silvery, and so very big. It was a full moon and it appeared to be bobbing ahead of me, at the end of a tree-lined path. So odd I thought, so unusual, but the trees were draped in lacy, Spanish moss. To my left was a river and it appeared that I was in the bayou. I? In the bayou, in New Orleans, Louisiana, a state I had never been in, and yet, here I was.
By Rasma Raisters3 years ago in Poets
