Through the Lens

I found a picture of you,


While she stood alone

At the Potomac,

And I adjusted my lens. 

I told a lighthearted

Sweetheart

Not to smile,

With dandelions

Encompassing

The outline of her figure.


Hands, arms, hair, shoes,

And all.

The air swung around

And waved her confused half-smile goodbye,

Before floating out

Over the water

And leaving her staring,

And laughing nervously.

The wind in her hair

And her hands

Was so beautiful

Amid a more vacant expression.

And isn’t that sad?

And isn’t that beautiful? 

A watched much thinner legs dangle


Over a wash that led


To a much more intimidating


Body of water.
Water that buoys


The boats that surround you


As you sail your way under the bridge,


And find your way home


Through my black and white lens.


2012