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
