What the Camera didn’t See.

One of my favorite ways to write is to think about all the pictures I take without my camera. The small little moments that even if my camera was in my hand, I may miss. Recently, I went on the most amazing writers retreat on the Lost Coast in Northern California. A beautiful place without cell service or internet. Only people writing, reading, sharing their creative projects with one another. It also has other elements of community that are essential to the retreat the beautiful individuals that make up our small community. The two poems below are a tribute to some people there. Once in a while, I encourage you to slow down. Take pictures without a camera or camera phone. Notice the little details. Instead, take the picture with your words.

TWO PEOPLE

I forgot to snap the picture
of her on her boyfriends lap;
her long, lanky arms
hugging around his neck.
It was in her contented smile,
I saw love
and
joy
in her green eyes.
I forgot to turn the camera
toward them
and catch the photo of his arms
around her waist
as she sat
on his knees.
A small, gentle smile
as he listened to her,
a full address of her words
in his eyes;
the turn of his head towards
and upwards
to her face.
I lost the chance
to take the picture of two people,
whose love for one another
is positioned for allowing space
for one another,
for fitting each into another’s life.

KITCHEN DANCE

My camera is set aside in a corner,
I did not capture
the image
of a newly retired person,
content in
seeing a clean and
organized kitchen.
I could have grabbed the camera
but instead,
watched the delicate dance of
washing, drying and
putting away
of dishes, silverware, large serving bowls and cups;
Pure,
early childish delight
in surveying sparkling counter tops
and pans,
all in their proper place.
I found the camera within;
Enjoyed the moment of conversation
over clinking utensils
and water draining from the dishwasher.
A picture lost of
a simple moment,
a simple joy…
that join the minutes of each day.

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