Melbourne Candid Series #1095 Latrobe St

 

On Latrobe Street where the echoes fall,
A winter hush cloaks over all.
A lady stands in noir attire,
Her voice a flame, her breath a fire.

Beneath her coat, the world grows still,
Each note she casts bends time and will.
Beside her, fingers strum the night—
A guitar sings of loss and light.

The city's pulse slows to her song,
A whispered place where hearts belong.
Footsteps pause in drifting air,
Drawn to music soft and rare.

In shadows deep, her chorus blooms,
A velvet sound that clears the gloom.
On Latrobe Street, the cold and gray
Are warmed by what her voice can say.

Sony A7RV 

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

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