Orleans

Beneath a colorful sky where twilight hums in lavender hues, the heart of New Orleans whispers in color. Balconies lace the skyline like wrought-iron lace, their shadows painting stories across glowing walls. Gas lamps flicker with golden memory, casting warmth onto cobblestone dreams, as the city readies itself for another jazz-swept night. The street, quiet for now, holds the echo of footsteps and laughter, a sacred hush before the storm of song. Signs swing gently in the breeze — Orleans, they say, but the soul here sings in every shade. This is not a road; it’s a poem alive, written in firelight and dusk.