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