In a pasta house off DeGraves’ way,
I pause to watch the diners stay;
They line the glass, a living show,
As if on stage for all to know.
Forks lift slow in the window’s frame,
Their laughter soft, their gestures same;
And I, outside, can scarce convey
Why they delight in such display.
Do they not feel the watcher’s eyes,
The passing crowd, the small surmise?
Or is it joy—to see, be seen—
A theatre made of glass between?
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...she certainly is watching.
ReplyDeleteNext time I eat at a place such as this, I'll be concerned about who's watching. :) Nice pic and perfect words.
ReplyDeletehttps://melbournephotography101.blogspot.com/2025/09/melbourne-candid-series-1176-de-graves.html - Ratty
ReplyDeleteSorry about that. I was trying to comment. I was trying to say that your poem describes your picture perfectly. I have often had similar thoughts upon looking in at diners sitting near a large window. - Ratty
ReplyDeleteMientras unos ya comen el pedido hay otros que aun miran la carta sin decidirse. Como siempre bien puesto el diafragma buscando el desenfoque del fondo
ReplyDeleteMuy simpática la escena, parece que lo están pasando bien comiendo juntos. Y muy bien enmarcada la fotografía entre los menús.
ReplyDeleteyou are so good with words
ReplyDelete