from new orleans to naples.

                  from new orleans

where people embrace age,
instead of trying to hide behind
a squeaking plastic facade.
he could already feel the mellowing blues
pouring from cafe doors
and into his yearning ears
throaty laughter, a contented drawl
as the music taught his eyes to listen
and his feet were lifted and
taught to dance

step by leap
through sprawling streets
past the flowing echo
of busker against sandy stone wall
he touched the scent of secrets from
a language, like melodic notes
flying from weathered lips
onto his blank canvas soul
the colour of wine.
where people live in art
instead of trying to flourish
in disillusioned wealth

                    to naples.