The city of New Orleans
becomes a home to any who enters it.
The call of “hey y’all” becomes our signal.
The smell of fried seafood becomes our weakness,
and the shade of an old oak tree becomes our safe haven.
Here, strangers are our friends.
Here, time slows to nothing, yet slips away like nowhere
else.
Here, young or old,
if you want to eat, you better get peeling.
Here is where it doesn’t matter if we’re hot or tired
because if the houses are still standing, we stand together
with them.
Catherine, age 16
