Sometimes we Smile
for the
lens
poised and waiting
sequence of memories
Captured
yet remembered?
I saw the photographs on your wall. And I wondered, were these some of the greatest moments of your life, created and captured with a simple contraption that has become the icon of memories? Do you see beyond the lens, and acquire the understanding of a new kind of beauty, forever your own? Each image tells a story. Moments we missed, cherished, shared, forgot. There's something so personal about photography, and the universe exposes itself to the hands of the practiced eye. Inconsequentially captured, these are the images that rot under our beds and fill our hard-drives. We try desperately to package that feeling and store it in our banks forever, to be called upon on days distant and unknown. Will it matter if we smiled?
I saw the photograph on my wall, and realized it was pouring that day.
Chicago, ice rink in Millenium Park, a few years ago.
flakes accumulate on sleeves
crunching footsteps
fall in
Ineffable silences
Repairable
The Cuff
of the sleeve
torn long ago
And so is true
for the heart
found in the
chill
of night
पास
Mandy
