Capture

Cracked earth
Your sign
Of sunshine after rain

Of clay
Close upon your surface
Of winters now far away

Wide grass, wedged between your thumbs
In front of your cupped fingers
Your breath

Without the grass gives a hoot
Or is it an owl
Somewhere in the distance

This moment
I stroke beneath your eyelid, then
Ask that you turn

To face into the sun
Such that the camera
May catch (capture)

More than just the essence
Of the past, or the future
Or your presence

In sepia tone
Or black and white
Or pixel plenty colour


This poem is from the pamphlet Rainbows On My Spectacles - Love Through a Lens
To see the complete collection click anywhere on this text