The beauty of photographs / Poem by Ana Toma

Poem by Ana Toma
The beauty of photographs
As I looked at photos taken last year,
I stared out of curiosity
to a very last photo taken by me,
Noted :” Loving sad hands”.
I admit.
I’m an unknown photograph of love,
of pain,
and of any sad beauty out there.
I’ve photographed the most
Dirty, lurking look,
of a serial cheater,
having a morning espresso,
and I’ve never got rewarded .
I’ve photographed the look
of a stolen angry man,
sitting on a light grey couch,
in a cozy living room,
on a Florida’s vacation home.
(He wasn’t enjoying
the presence
of his adorable family).
Was the one getting
easily frustrated.
Was able to loose his temper
for no good reason.
(This man was one of a kind.
The most secretive person
that I’ve known).
But, he was a lost man.
A stolen, angry man.
I’ve photographed the real beauty
of a man in love,
Gently caressing his woman’s soul.
(Many innocent conversations,
captured as a photograph,
Deep inside their beautiful hearts).
This man is out there,
waiting for the following fotoshoot.
Maybe this coming spring,
When lilies bloom,
I’m going to photograph
Their smell.
I fell in love
with this couple’s kindness,
and they both knew it.
I’ve photographed the time
given by a good looking man,
to this stunning young woman,
when she desperately needed
someone to talk to. Just talk.
And he never regrets it.
I’ve photographed one of the
happiest smile in my world,
And I will never forget.
I’ve photographed the favorite scent
of a woman in love.
The scent of blooming lilies…
(She lived each second
smelling and smiling,
often cried out of joy).
I’ve photographed happy hands
of couples out of love.
I’ve photographed half crossed fingers,
of very sad hands,
of two beloved angels,
in LOVE…
©️Ana Toma
Jan. 27, 2021

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