Midday leans hard against the pavement,
light spilling through plane trees and glass.
A man stands still inside the crowd,
thumbs scrolling a small, glowing elsewhere.
Ink climbs his arms like remembered roads,
maps of places he has already been.
Behind him, the city queues for a crossing
four lives paused at the same red breath.
Trams hum their low mechanical prayers,
shops flash promises in clean fonts.
A recycling bin waits patiently,
asking nothing, offering order.
Everyone is here,
yet elsewhere
heads bowed to screens, schedules, hunger,
a message arriving late or too soon.
Swanston Street keeps moving without comment.
It has learned this trick:
how to hold thousands of private moments
inside one ordinary afternoon.
Sony A7RV
FE 14mm f1.8 GM
Check out Candid 1101
No comments:
Post a Comment