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