I sometimes take pictures of things I find
that speak and claw and rattle the soul
A stretch of streetlight silhouette
Iron tasting winds and time
The haze of scrollwork shadows
My camera speaks
In faulty pictures
Like a story you mistake for memory.
Once I stood in the hallway of a hotel
sunlight gushing through the arch ahead
a daydream warm to the touch.
I took a photo
and a cloud swallowed the sun.
Two fleeting breaths and it was lost
The hallway just a hallway
forever beyond my lens.
Life is not still and silent
Posed and framed.
It is bent railings
And the search for the magic beyond the moment.