In Albert Park Lake, the morning gleams,
soft light drifts through the silver seams;
a rower glides, his oar-blades bite,
petals of water bloom in flight.
His vest clings close, his rhythm sure,
each stroke both effort and allure;
the ripples spread, then fade away,
like whispered thoughts that cannot stay.
Behind him stand the patient trees,
their leaves stirred gently by the breeze;
the lake holds calm, the air holds grace
one man, one craft, one quiet place.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 996
No comments:
Post a Comment