~ Delta Poetry Review ~

Raymond Berthelot

In Memoriam

(for my father)

Wet and grey

as if the sun has been banished

Cold, clear crisp tomorrow

tomorrow

The first fire of the season

gumbo in the old pot on the stove, oysters waiting to be shucked outside

Like the spaces between the stars, memories

nothing stretching towards infinity

Upon the approaching front rides the past

while purple martins claim their territory

And we, alone

feel the absence deep within our bones

The New South

The gallery to myself

color prints of the new south

Confederate flags

racial harmony and segregation

poverty, industry at the expense of nature

obligatory hunting and fishing rights of passage

Civil War again and again

baptism in the blood of the lamb

like an early R.E.M. video

not that it’s bad

it’s just that it’s not new

are we forever cursed

as our ancestors before us

to live in the new south

I Like that Town Best

I like that town best

in the very early morning rain

cobble stones newly wet

and the mist blankets the cathedral and plaza

like a baby’s blanket

The dark smell of coffee

and a hint of last night’s liquor

remind us that we’re here now

but only passing through

The gypsy lady and the carnival juggler

are declaring their place in the square

as the calliope sings her song

to the rising sun

As she opens her eyes

weary, the smells of night love

still on the sheets

she smiles slightly

and asks

to sleep for ten minutes more

Raymond Berthelot is the Historic Sites District Manager for the Louisiana Office of State Parks and also teaches at Baton Rouge Community College. His work has appeared in diverse publications such as Apricity Magazine, The Elevation Review, Journal of Caribbean Literatures, the Carolina Quarterly and DASH Literary Journal. A chapbook of poems, “The Middle Ages,” is currently at available with Finishing Line Press. Email: rberth4745@aol.com