Easing loss of the moments on either side
single frame without context
becomes, for lack of a better truth
truth
and so the wagon is wood
his smile hooks around a cigarette
shoulders bent into smoke and effort
he pulls me through shifting sand
I wear a green shirt
my hair in tangles
small body
hunched forward
toward him
with him
it is always so
look
they say, and sometimes I do as well …
look
betrayal
but only of myself
it is always so
here
in the moments
on either side
of truth
Just letting you know I am here.
Always.
Hmmm.
Me too.
So there.
Right. Why is it so hard to even fathom at times what is really real? Even when photographed.
Our mind is our reality which is actually invisible.
So another side of truth, invisibility?
Which can be disheartening.
I LOVE taking photographs and look at them. But rarely print them even with printability at my fingertips. This helped me realize, perhaps, the why in that.
Beautiful poetry!
This …
“So another side of truth, invisibility.”
LOVE that, Robin.
Love.