Sunday at Café du Monde

By Dianne Mason

Do you think of that morning?

The two of us half-drunk from life and the night,

believing the world would always embrace us,

joining early morning joggers in sweat-stained shirts,

bar tenders rubbing sleep from blood-shot eyes,

stragglers yawning fresh from Bourbon Street,

all pulled by the promise of hickory-spiked

coffee and sweet fried dough.

Remember how, at the table, I said, Forget grad school,

I want to set up in Lafayette Park

with flowers in my hair, bells on my skirt,

and read Tarot cards to flocking tourists.

Mouths ringed with powdered sugar, heads thrown back,

we laughed as only those who believe

they’ll be young and in love forever can.

Remember how, from down Decatur Street,

a hymn of horns rose golden in the humid air

led by a man in a canary yellow suit,

his silver shoes pulsing with the

heartbeat of the world,

the electric blue feathers

on his parasol flicking time to

When the Saints Go Marching In.

How could you forget the two of us,

lifted by the sound, clapping and laughing,

joining the dance as wild and free

as the city singing in our hearts?

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Dianne Mason is a college English teacher who lives in Matthews, NC. Her poems have appeared in Broad River Review, The Main Street Rag, County Lines: A Literary Journal among others. She has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and was a finalist in the 2024 and 2025 Ron Rash Poetry Award Contest.