A son strides forward, brisk and sure,
A mother trails in softer blur
Her thoughts perhaps a step behind,
Or tangled somewhere in her mind.
He scans ahead, the world in frame,
Unbothered by the passing game;
She leans into a quieter pace,
Reading stories in each face.
Between them hums a silent thread
Of things not said, but always said;
For even out of step they move,
In that familiar, human groove.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 1167
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