Photography (a poem)

I do not yet have my writing challenge for the month of July yet, but this poem started with hearing someone say ‘in camera’ in something I was watching.

In camera
the world is flat
a fragment of existence
cropped from infinity
silent and still

A trick of the light
reduces familiar faces
to moments stolen from time
reconstructed in the service
of nostalgia and art

On paper
images lie
underlined by words
once struck from metal
conjured by men

My pictures
lack form
beyond what love and fear
allow me to see
and what I feel

(1 July 2016—posted July 2nd)

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