Melbourne Candid Series #1237 Albert Lake

 

By Albert Park Lake in Melbourne’s chill,
a young chap stood, poised and still
man bun tight, a Viking’s air,
the morning light caught in his hair.

In his hands, a slender staff—
at either end, twin circles laughed,
spinning, flashing, slicing air,
a dance of metal, bold and rare.

He moved with rhythm, fierce and free,
each turn a whispered melody,
the lake reflected sky and flame,
and he—untamed—without a name.

Joggers slowed, the breeze grew keen,
the water shimmered, silver-green;
the blades kept turning, wild delight
a Norse ghost playing in the light.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

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