Nearly Every Day

Nearly Every Day

 

Nearly every day I wander about

with camera in hand (attached like some odd

prosthetic device) trying to capture

the seconds that constitute my life.

 

It’s as if by snapping the shutter I

assure myself that nothing will change;

the people and places I see and freeze

in time will always be here and I will always

 

be unseen, but still be part of the whole

of this marvelous place discovered so late.

And those who tend their shops or perfect their art;

who play with their kids and fix and serve our meals,

 

or prepare their boats for long hauls at sea;

and those who repair our roads, connect our phones,

keep the peace and douse our errant fires and

those who find joy on the water; all those who don’t see me

 

as I observe them from the docks and corners

and the doorways as I walk  the town

make their lives part of my own and allow

their moments to mingle and merge with mine.

 

I put my camera to my eye and for one

fraction of a second a silhouette and I are one,

sharing that brief instant, caught forever

in a world that will never change.

 

© Marty Luster 2012