Melbourne Candid Series #1121 Collins St

 

On Collins Street beneath the glare,
A man with short-cropped wind-tossed hair
Twists his body, leans askew,
As if the sun had split him through.

His eyes are shut, a fleeting shield
Against the blaze the noon revealed.
A T-shirt clings in summer’s heat,
A bag swings low with rhythmic beat.

Behind, the crowd flows like a stream,
Each face absorbed in its own dream.
But he, alone in this brief fight,
Moves through the shimmer, squints at light.

A moment caught—so strangely bright—
Of man and motion, sun and spite.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 877

Melbourne Candid Series #1119 Latrobe St

 

A moody lane off La Trobe’s line,
Where shadows stretch and wires entwine,
In monochrome the night is drawn,
A ghost of light before the dawn.

The cobbles slick with echoed rain,
Hold footsteps blurred, half lost in grain,
Each lamp a flicker, pale and stark,
Carves silver shapes into the dark.

No colour dares disturb the scene,
Just black and white and shades between—
A hush, a breath, the city bare,
As if the world forgot to care.

And yet, beneath that ghostly hue,
The night still whispers something true—
That even silence, dim and deep,
Can cradle dreams the dark must keep.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 875

Melbourne Candid Series #1115 Latrobe St

 

At night, just off LaTrobe’s long line,
Where windows glow with muted shine,
A restaurant hums with quiet grace—
A moment framed in time and place.

Inside, beneath the amber hue,
Where shadows soften every view,
An older woman nears a chair,
With silver thread upon her hair.

She moves with care, yet holds a light
That flickers gently in the night—
As if the years have bowed, not dimmed,
The quiet fire she keeps within.

A table waits—set four, not two—
With linen crisp and glasses dew,
And at its edge, a young man stands,
Delight cupped warmly in his hands.

His eyes are wide with welcome’s gleam,
His smile—a sun caught in a dream.
He greets her not with duty worn,
But joy, unpracticed and reborn.

And in that glance, a thread is tied,
Across the years, the lives, the tide.
No trumpet flares, no passer sees—
But something stirs, as soft as breeze.

For there, beyond the streetlight’s gleam,
Two hearts, in silence, start to dream.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 871 and FACE OFF

Melbourne Candid Series #1114 Latrobe St

 

From LaTrobe’s spine, a side street bends,
Where city’s edge and evening blends—
And there beneath the sodium light,
A gathering stirs the breath of night.

Outdoor tables, silver-clad,
Hold bowls half-full and glasses glad.
The diners speak in gentle rings,
Their laughter softened, fluttering wings.

But some have left their seats behind,
As if compelled by idle mind;
They drift among the chairs like breeze,
A loosened rhythm, aimless ease.

One lifts a glass, then walks away,
Another stands mid-thought, mid-sway—
As though the street itself might call
To taste the quiet in its thrall.

The waiters weave like ghosts through light,
Their trays afloat in charcoal night,
While overhead, the buildings lean
Like silent elders in between.

No haste, no hush—just human tide
That ebbs through Melbourne’s darker side.
A city’s pulse, low-lit, alive,
Where strangers sit, and stories thrive.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 870

Melbourne Candid Series #1113 Latrobe St

 

Off LaTrobe Street, where trams glide past
And Melbourne hums its stories fast,
A window holds a quiet frame—
Two figures lit by candle flame.

Night presses soft against the glass,
As strangers in the dark hours pass,
But here, within this warm-lit cave,
A pause—the kind that silence gave.

He leans, his right hand props his face,
Time draped across him, slow and base.
Eyes half-lost in drifting thought,
In words unsaid or battles fought.

She bows her gaze toward the plate,
A woman caught in inward state.
The silver waits, the wine grows thin,
But she has turned somewhere within.

They do not speak; they do not smile—
They sit apart across the tile
Of linen white and shadows low,
Two souls in dinner's afterglow.

Outside, the city does not care,
It flickers, breathes, and fills the air.
But here—a stillness sharp and deep,
Like love that lingers, half-asleep.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 869

Melbourne Candid Series #1112 Latrobe St

 

Beneath a bleached and silent sky,
LaTrobe Street hums a mournful sigh—
The past, half-laced with soot and steam,
Unfolds itself like some half-waking dream.

He walks alone, a ciphered man,
In coat of dusk and twilight’s span;
A brimmed hat veils his spectral gaze,
A face half-lost in London's haze.

He bears the shape of myth unwound,
Of orphaned tales on hallowed ground,
And though no wand adorns his hand,
He moves as though he might command
The dust to lift, the bricks to speak,
The ghosts that gather once a week.

Behind him leans a weathered place,
A structure smudged with time’s embrace—
Its windows dull with decades’ grime,
Its arches carved by soot and rhyme.

He does not pause, nor glance behind,
A pilgrim stitched from page and mind.
Not Harry, no—but someone born
From ink, from fog, from books well-worn.

And all around, the grayscale clings,
As if to quiet magic’s wings—
Yet still he walks, and still we yearn,
For spells to stir, and clocks to turn.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 868

Melbourne Candid Series #1110 Latrobe St

 

In grainy hush of silvered gloom,
I stand above—cemented room—
a carpark edge, the frame is set,
the city's bones in vignette.

Below, three figures dressed in dusk,
carved sharp in light’s depleted husk.
Their shadows stretch, then fall away—
black ink that bleeds through paper gray.

Each head is bowed, each hand aglow,
white screens like lanterns lit below.
No mouths are moved, no glances shared,
they stand like statues, unaware.

Their outlines flicker—smoke and steel,
young men absorbed, half-lost, half-real.
A blur of light on faces drawn,
as if the night could etch them gone.

The street behind—bare, endless scroll,
no sky, no stars, just shadow’s toll.
And I, above, outside the frame,
watch silence pulse beneath their names.

It is a vision, stark and still—
a photograph the dark would fill.
Not loneliness, but something near—
connection shaped by static fear.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 866

Melbourne Candid Series #1104 Latrobe St

 

On Latrobe Street, where night winds glide,
Three ladies sit on the porch outside.
Their laughter dances in the dusky air,
Beneath soft lamps with gentle stare.

By the bar, where windows breathe—
No glass to shield the night’s cool wreath—
Two ladies linger, drinks in hand,
Their voices hushed like ocean sand.

Melbourne hums a quiet tune,
Neon glow and silver moon.
Five souls in city’s evening gleam,
Framed in a poet’s fleeting dream.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 860

Melbourne Candid Series #1103 Latrobe St

 

Beneath the glow of Melbourne’s night,
On La Trobe where street lamps light,
A table hums with quiet cheer—
Chinese diners gathered near.

Their laughter soft, their voices low,
As city breezes gently blow.
Pasta twirls on lifted forks,
Steam rising up in fragrant corks.

Chili kissed the olive thread,
While stories in their language spread.
In bowls, a world both new and known—
Tradition met in foreign tone.

The night rolls on, a gentle stream,
Of noodle curls and shared daydream,
Where cultures blend in warm delight,
On La Trobe Street, deep in night.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 859

Melbourne Candid Series #1102 Latrobe St

 

Through glass, I gaze where lights softly gleam,
A penthouse perch above the stream
Of La Trobe’s hum, where city sighs
Rise gently under dusking skies.

Inside, a hush before the flare—
The kitchen stirs with quiet care.
White coats move in a measured dance,
A prelude born of skill and chance.

Knives whisper, steam begins to climb,
Cocktails shimmer, caught in time.
Laughter waits in crystal’s ring,
As chefs and waiters, deft, unseen,
Prepare the night’s unfolding art—
Each plate a story, every start
A promise scented, warm, and bright,
Beneath the Melbourne evening light.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 858

Melbourne Candid Series #1101 Latrobe St

 

He stands alone where night hangs low,
LaTrobe beneath a sodium glow.
A bearded face, both lost and tight,
Lit faintly by his phone’s pale light.

His fingers twitch, his eyes sink deep,
Into a screen that doesn’t sleep.
The city's hum just fades behind —
He’s scrolling through a restless mind.

The night moves on, but he stands still,
A shadow carved by aching will.
Addiction’s grip, both cold and kind,
Feeds silence to his wired mind.

The tram rolls past, a whisper gone,
But still he waits, still stares alone.
No message comes to break the spell,
Just endless scroll in digital hell.

A man, a street, a screen held tight,
Another soul blurred out by night.
And somewhere deep, beneath it all —
A human lost, still hoping to call.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 857

Melbourne Candid Series #1100 Latrobe St

 

On LaTrobe beneath the city’s glow,
Where midnight winds begin to blow,
Two shadows drift through silver air —
A pair unlikely, bold and rare.

The elder walks with practiced grace,
A powdered dream in satin lace.
Her gown — thick velvet, regal wide,
A princess lost, yet dignified.

She wears her age like royal thread,
Like Jennifer Coolidge, softly led,
A wistful spark behind her eyes,
A woman wrapped in old goodbyes.

Beside her steps a solemn guide,
A younger soul with priestly stride.
In robes of dark, with collar tight,
She walks like silence through the night.

The city watches, traffic sighs,
As time walks past in pale disguise.
A queen, a priest, a story spun,
Where streetlights blur and trams still run.

No need for reason, rhyme, or fame —
Just two in costume, none the same.
And in their pace, the world might see
A fleeting touch of mystery.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 856 and FACE OFF

Melbourne Candid Series #1099 Latrobe St

 

A flicker, a blur in black and white,
LaTrobe Street hums with ghostly light.
Figures drift through evening’s haze,
Like dreams that walk in city’s maze.

Costumes swirl in shadowed gleam,
Half-seen faces from a fevered dream.
Masks and laughter, heels that glide,
Through the grayscale pulse of Melbourne’s side.

Sequins shimmer, then disappear,
Caught in headlight ghosts that veer.
A cape, a crown, a tangled wig —
Moments vanish, faint and big.

No color names the scene tonight,
Just monochrome and borrowed light.
A party spills from time and street,
Where strangers in disguise all meet.

The tram-line hums a distant song,
While blurred legs dance the night along.
And memory holds what lens can't keep —
A moving dream, half-lost in sleep.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 855

Melbourne Candid Series #1097 Latrobe St

 

On Latrobe Street, where night chills bite,
A chap pulls on his jumper tight.
The breeze slips through the urban sprawl,
And winter whispers over all.

Beside him, in the lamplight's gleam,
Another sits, lost in his stream—
Of stories, laughs, a slanted grin,
A glass of spirit clutched within.

The clink of ice, the breath of gin,
The warmth that stirs somewhere within.
Though cold may creep through coat and bone,
He speaks as if he's not alone.

The city hums, the footfalls fade,
As if this moment's gently made—
Two friends, a street, the hour deep,
While Melbourne rocks itself to sleep.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 853

Melbourne Candid Series #1095 Latrobe St

 

On Latrobe Street where the echoes fall,
A winter hush cloaks over all.
A lady stands in noir attire,
Her voice a flame, her breath a fire.

Beneath her coat, the world grows still,
Each note she casts bends time and will.
Beside her, fingers strum the night—
A guitar sings of loss and light.

The city's pulse slows to her song,
A whispered place where hearts belong.
Footsteps pause in drifting air,
Drawn to music soft and rare.

In shadows deep, her chorus blooms,
A velvet sound that clears the gloom.
On Latrobe Street, the cold and gray
Are warmed by what her voice can say.

Sony A7RV 

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 851

Melbourne Candid Series #1094 Little Bourke St

 

An alley off of Little Bourke,
Where silence wraps the city's murk,
The night breathes low in amber hue,
Street lamps cast their solemn view.

Their golden halos gently fall
On cobblestones, worn smooth and small,
Each stone a story, soft and old,
Of boots and dreams, of hands grown cold.

Shadows stretch along the lane,
In quiet rhythm, soft as rain.
The city's hum is far, then near—
A breath, a step, a whisper clear.

Here secrets cling to brick and wall,
Where time forgets to move at all.
In Melbourne's heart, in hush and gleam,
The alley hums a half-lost dream.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 580

Melbourne Candid Series #1092 Elizabeth St

 

Off Elizabeth, where neon hums
and tram-line dreams in silence come,
a storefront glows with muted grace,
its glass a veil, its light a face.

Inside, a stillness thick and bare—
few figures sit in twilight's care.
By tiled wall and table’s end,
they dine in hush, like time’s own friends.

Their shadows lean with gentle weight,
as if they’ve paused the hands of fate.
Steam curls soft from bowls held near,
warmth the only sound to hear.

No words disturb the breathing light,
just silhouettes against the night—
their stories hinted, not yet told,
in Melbourne’s chill, in silence bold.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 848

Melbourne Candid Series #1091 Latrobe St

 

Latrobe Street Evenings

On Latrobe Street, beneath the night’s soft sigh,
Where city lights like fireflies fly,
Three ladies sit where stories steep—
Outside the café, no time for sleep.

Steam curls from mugs of cocoa warm,
Their laughter weaves through twilight’s charm.
In shawls and smiles, the news they share
Dances gently in the brisk night air.

The trams hum low, the streetlights gleam,
Their words float out like part of a dream.
Between sips and secrets, time slips slow—
In Melbourne’s heart, under lamplight’s glow.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 847 and FACE OFF

Melbourne Candid Series #1090 Latrobe St

 

Late at night, where city lights gleam,
Two girls dine in a penthouse dream.
Menus chalked upon the floor,
Whispers of flavour, tales and more.

Above the world, in quiet grace,
They share a moment, time and place.
Soft voices blend with night’s embrace,
In that high-up, secret space.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 846

Melbourne Candid Series #1087 Swanston St

 

Three girls walk Swanston’s busy way,
Two masked to guard, in cautious sway.
A shadow lingers, unseen but near,
Yet friendship’s light shines bright and clear.

Through Melbourne’s streets, they move with care,
Aware, alert, a silent prayer.
In masks they wear, both shield and sign—
Of strength and hope through troubled time.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 843