Melbourne Candid Series #1114 Latrobe St

 

From LaTrobe’s spine, a side street bends,
Where city’s edge and evening blends—
And there beneath the sodium light,
A gathering stirs the breath of night.

Outdoor tables, silver-clad,
Hold bowls half-full and glasses glad.
The diners speak in gentle rings,
Their laughter softened, fluttering wings.

But some have left their seats behind,
As if compelled by idle mind;
They drift among the chairs like breeze,
A loosened rhythm, aimless ease.

One lifts a glass, then walks away,
Another stands mid-thought, mid-sway—
As though the street itself might call
To taste the quiet in its thrall.

The waiters weave like ghosts through light,
Their trays afloat in charcoal night,
While overhead, the buildings lean
Like silent elders in between.

No haste, no hush—just human tide
That ebbs through Melbourne’s darker side.
A city’s pulse, low-lit, alive,
Where strangers sit, and stories thrive.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

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