The Photographer / Poem by Opal Ingram

Poem by Opal Ingram
 
 
The Photographer
 
I regulate those snap shots the walls within the one that no one wants to hear about the past struggles in the deep, the victories the light, I walk through the valley.
The painted signs the torn up streets gentlemen with their briefcases, ladies with their bags I sit in front of the cafe sipping on straight Black coffee in its tiny cup.
I see the the face of every race.
The strange
the beautiful the different I regulate those snap shots.
I see the dresses and the hats fill with laughter and good cheer.
Some fill with fear.but I see the beauty the walls within.
I see the steps oh so tall
I see the painted signs
I see the University
I see the park.
I see the monument oh so grand
I walk through no one should ask
The other what you thinking?
I sit with my glasses so clear
Birds are every where.
In they existence.
I sit besides a stranger loneness is present but I feel the warm.
I see the pleasure the sun shining
Bright the skies clear, I see the smiling faces
I see the man playing the guitar
Who does not want to hear the drummer across the way drumming away.
I regulate those snap shots
I am the photographer.
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s