That moment on the street
eyes frozen in mid blink,
a swirl of skirt forever trapped
by light on silver emulsion
when the shutter snapped.
I seek my self reflected
in dark panes of glass,
that young man
on the sidewalk of the past.
In that world as insubstantial
as the clouds behind me
drifting across shop windows
with their seductions:
Sunny escapes and picnics,
cutting a glamorous figure
in bathing suits or blazers,
second hand guitars,
engagement rings,
and watches pawned
to pay some strained
person's rent or dire habit.
Cities seen through glass
float like memories or dreams,
weightless as the years
that vanished too quickly.
Moments trapped
on flimsy strips of plastic ,
granules of silver nitrate
reacting to the light.
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