In Collins Arcade where footsteps glide,
A waiter moves with pride.
Plates in both hands, steady and sure,
He weaves through noon’s soft shopping blur.
A glint of light on polished dome,
Among the echoes, he's at home.
A silent dance on marble floor,
Balancing lunch and something more
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 909
By Collins Arcade in the midday haze,
She sits alone in the city’s maze.
A cowboy hat crowns her thoughtful brow,
A queen of calm in the here and now.
Her apron drapes like a gentle tide,
An honest fold she does not hide.
Broad and still, in shaded grace,
She scrolls her phone at an unhurried pace.
The crowd flows by like a restless stream,
But she remains, lost in a dream.
Perhaps a message, a memory, a smile
She lingers there a little while.
In boots or heels, the city's fast,
But she is anchored, built to last.
A portrait drawn in quiet might
A lady of presence, broad as light.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 908
On Elizabeth Street where trams roll slow,
Two figures walk where city breezes blow.
A mother and daughter, side by side,
In black and white, with quiet pride.
Their Collingwood shirts bold as the dawn,
Stripes like stories lovingly drawn.
The daughter’s disregard, light as lace,
Mirrors the confusion on her mother’s face.
Among the rush of Melbourne's hum,
Past café steam and traffic's drum,
They hold their own—a loyal thread
To cheers once roared, and legends said.
Hands entwined, hearts dressed the same,
Walking the path of a shared flame.
Not just a team, but a tale retold—
Of love, of legacy, and colors bold.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 907
A young dude walks with easy flow,
A cap pulled low, a steady go,
Up Little Flinders’ quiet rise,
Beneath the pale and brooding skies.
His sneakers tap the cobbled way,
As morning hums in muted grey,
The city stirs, its heart still slow,
While shadows stretch and breezes blow.
No rush in stride, no heavy aim,
Just rhythm, step, and street-side frame
A soul in motion, calm and plain,
Ascending life on Flinders Lane.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 906
On Hosier Lane where colours gleam,
A canvas born of spray and dream,
One chap stands still with phone held high,
While shadows stretch and trams roll by.
Before the wall his muse appears,
A girl in shades, untouched by years,
She strikes a pose with calm and flair,
Graffiti flames behind her hair.
The lens now frames a fleeting truth,
Of city walls and blushing youth
Art on brick and love on show,
In Melbourne’s laneway afterglow.
No gallery needs golden frame,
Their moment lives without a name;
A photo snapped, a smile, a spark
And beauty caught in urban dark.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 905
A man walks with measured pace,
In weathered jeans, with timeworn grace,
Down Swanston Street, beneath the sun,
Where Melbourne’s rhythm softly runs.
Beside him strides a younger frame,
A girl of brightness none could tame—
Dark hair, a shimmer, sunglasses bold,
A phone in hand, the future told.
Two lives aligned for just a street,
A fleeting dance, the past and fleet,
He walks in thought, she taps and swipes,
Their worlds diverge, yet both alike.
A moment held in city light,
Of age and youth in shared delight,
No word exchanged, no need for sound—
Just footsteps echoing downtown.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out
On Swanston Street in midday glare,
Two young men wandered without a care.
In singlets light and weathered stride,
They moved like currents, side by side.
One bore a cap, his mullet proud,
Sunglasses hooked, his stance unbowed.
He faced ahead, eyes on the flow,
A figure caught in city’s glow.
The other turned, his glance askew,
A bag in hand, tattoos in view.
A smile broke free—half sun, half jest,
As though the world had passed some test.
Diverging steps in Melbourne's heat,
Two stories danced along the street.
Each bearing tone, a silent song,
Of youth adrift, where all belongs.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 903
On Bourke Street Mall where footsteps pass,
He sits alone on iron brass
A bearded man, both still and slow,
Eyes cast down where shadows grow.
His coffee cup rests in his hand,
No rush to sip, no firm demand.
The world moves by in steady stream,
While he dissolves into a dream.
The hum of trams, the chatter near,
All fold into a silence clear.
As if the ground could speak below,
He listens deep to what he knows.
No sign, no plea, no spoken word,
Just thoughts that flutter, faint, unheard.
A quiet figure none may see
But in his stillness, poetry.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 902
Two men in singlets, legs outstretched,
In summer’s ease, their silence etched.
A bench off Bourke, a quiet fold,
Where city stories still unfold.
Their voices low, like rivers run,
Not loud with boast, nor seeking sun
But private words in open air,
A fleeting trust, unspoken care.
Their shorts are creased from hours sat still,
The world around them loud, yet chill.
And though the trams may clatter by,
Their space is calm beneath the sky.
A monochrome of time slowed down,
No need for stage, no mask, no crown
Just two old friends in midday light,
Their laughter soft, their bond held tight.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 901 and FACE OFF
Off Bourke Street’s curve in silver light,
A man on wheels begins his flight
Helmeted, silent, e-bike hum,
A shadow in the city’s thrum.
Behind, beneath a brooding sky,
A woman dressed in black walks by.
Her hat, a moon of quiet grace,
No rush, no fear upon her face.
She holds a hand, a boy’s small frame,
His steps unsure, yet not the same
For anchored firm in her still pace,
He walks the world with gentle grace.
Monochrome moments, soft and wide,
Lives in motion, paths that glide.
No words exchanged, yet somehow known
Each stranger walking not alone.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 900
In Collins Arcade where echoes hum,
A hush beneath the city's drum,
Two pairs of women, side by side,
In monochrome where time won't glide.
Porcelain cups in slender hands,
Their words like soft, unspoken bands,
The steam ascends in gentle swirls,
Like secrets traded between girls.
Their laughter dances, light and low,
A thread of silk in morning's flow,
Melbourne’s heart, though far from home,
Beats gently where these voices roam.
No grand parade, no trumpet sound,
Yet in this stillness, strength is found
In every sip, each knowing glance,
An old world weaves into the dance.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 899
Upon The Causeway, still she sits,
In Melbourne’s hush where shadow knits
The woven light of afternoon
Into a monochrome cocoon.
A café chair, a frame of grace,
She lifts her eyes, a silent face
Held fast by thought, or winds unseen,
That stir the mind where none have been.
No coffee touched, no glance returns—
Only the distant skyline burns
Its outline through the softened grey
Of half-spent time and slipping day.
Her coat hangs loose, her hair undone,
The city moves, but she is one
With something past the tramline’s end,
A lost, invisible old friend.
She does not blink. The hour grows thin.
The world continues crowding in—
But on that chair she drifts apart,
A grayscale ghost with pulsing heart.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 898
A man had his cheek supported by his right hand in front of apple laptop on collins st cafe looking beyond side way in melb
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 897
On Collins Street beneath the grey,
Where shopfronts line the silent way,
A youth stood still, mid city stream,
As trams rolled past in muted gleam.
She held a cup, still steaming white,
Its warmth between the morning light
And spoke, with eyes both bright and kind,
To one whom age had made refined.
Her silver hair, her coat drawn neat,
A cane beside her careful feet,
She listened as the young man said
Some gentle thought, some word unsaid.
The world passed by in shades of grey,
But in their pause, the time gave way
Two strangers held in quiet grace,
A fleeting moment, face to face.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 896
A bald waiter moves with silent grace,
Wiping down each coffee trace.
On the Causeway where footsteps blend,
He tends the tables end to end.
A flick of cloth, a tilted plate,
He works beneath the café's weight.
The city's hum, the clink of cups,
The morning slowly gathering up.
No spotlight shines, no curtain call,
Yet in his rhythm, dignity tall.
A quiet craft, no need for fame—
Just honest work beneath his name.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 895
A little boy rides his scooter slow,
Wheels whisper soft on streets below.
Across Exhibition, bold and wide,
He glides with wonder, dad by his side.
Monochrome holds the city still,
Time in grayscale bends to will.
Shadows stretch, the tram bells chime,
They move as if outside of time.
His father’s hand, a steady guide,
Through crosswalks where the moments bide.
A boy, a scooter, a world to claim—
In black and white, he writes his name.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 894
A middle-aged man on Hosier Lane,
With cobblestones beneath his stride,
A cap pulled low, sunglasses plain,
He walks where colours dare to hide.
One hand tucked in his coat’s deep fold,
The other swinging free and slow,
Through art-stained walls, both bright and bold,
He moves where silent watchers go.
The city hums, but he walks still,
A shadow shaped by time and will.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 893
On Hosier Lane where the murals breathe,
A man walks uphill with sunlight sheathed—
Gleaming shades on his silent face,
Each step wrapped in the lane’s embrace.
His wife beside, her hand in his own,
Two shadows stretching on cobblestone.
She leans like memory, soft and near,
He leads like time with nothing to fear.
The walls around burst wild with hue,
But they move quiet, just passing through—
A moment framed in a painted land,
Love uphill, hand in hand.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 892 and FACE OFF
On Little Lonsdale, under silver skies, he stands
A bald man in suit, with upturned eyes and hands.
A microphone clutched like a herald’s call,
Words poised to rise above city’s sprawl.
A leather strapbag hugs his side, worn deep,
Stories stitched in folds it’s sworn to keep.
The satchel slung with a scholar’s grace,
Heavy with maps of a wandering place.
He does not speak, but listens to air,
To trams that sing and the footfall’s prayer.
In the hush between towers’ glass and stone,
He finds a pulpit in being alone.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 891
On Collins Street they walked as two,
Beneath the sky of cloud and blue.
Their steps were slow, their silence deep,
As though they bore a care they’d keep.
The husband wore his dark disguise,
His sunglasses veiling thoughtful eyes.
While on her head, in morning glare,
Her shades lay tangled in her hair.
Together yet each mind alone,
They wandered through the heart of stone—
In Melbourne's light, their shadows cast,
By present fears and echoes past.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 890
