LET HER, A LETTER
New Orleans, Lower Garden District, fall of 2022
Field Notes:
Feb 19, ‘26
Copied new version into g-drive for feedback & book layout orientation.
Next Steps; add flower in Photoshop.
Need photo of mockingjay
Add intro paragraph, final revision to photos, and outro poem
Check G-Drive for work.
Feb, 4, 2026
Edited intro photo w more yellow + grain effect.
Added comments where to insert addtl photos.
Next Steps; add flower in Photoshop.
⃞
A tiny light spilling into a frame.
“Rue,” a demeanor. An encounter.
The Garden District’s street announcement.
New Orlean’s ghosts lingering in past, present, and future
whispering in floral tongue
and whiffs of fried food.
I keep wondering…
Is this a thing?
The process of becoming,
one person,
with something to make.
LET HER, A LETTER
Star Jasmine, they smell so good.
Boarding fences,
climbing telephone polls.
Are you open?
To new
discoveries?
Are you
fair?
Wind tickles
mini white roses.
An iron fence
creaks open.
Pooled rain glistens.
Shed the facade—
off fallen palms.
What can be told,
that one doesn’t
already know?
Noticing,
rain water pelts off umbrella.
Oaks also provide cover.
Dark roots pull up.
Wrestling with
concrete,
accidentally–
inevitably.
I don't know,
what story is written
or writing.
“It don’t matter if
the rain tries again.
Take the rest
of the day off.”
Painted chair.
Knobby
crepe myrtle.
Fried food
is the muse
& messes the muse,
[tail wagging]
“This is Rue.
He’s an old man.
Can’t see.
Can't hear.
He can eat though...
Pick up your poop. ”
The sun dashing through mist—
tell me about fluorescence!
Acknowledgements
Thank you to the many beings helping with this project. Bill and Missy Dalton for their home and keen appreciation to the beauty and history of New Orleans. To dad for vespa trips to Mollys, City Park, and a many po’boy & thank you to the beloved city of New Orleans.
About the author
Colleen Elizabeth Jaggi is an artist
living in New England.