Oysters, like open secret

Beneath the hush of cypress shade and river mist,
a banquet blooms in blackened ink—
a song of sea and soul.
Oysters, like open secrets, cradle pearls of memory,
while citrus wheels spin sunlit spells
through branches of wild fennel and drifting tides.
A shrimp, curled in quiet majesty,
rests like a guardian of brine and story,
where every line whispers salt and jazz,
every shadow hums with moss and melody.
This is not a meal—
it’s a ritual,
a sacred offering from the Gulf to the city,
where New Orleans eats, breathes, and dreams in rhythm and reverence.