Amid the rush on Swanston Street,
Where countless footsteps rise and meet,
A thousand faces glance and stray,
All chasing time, then swept away.
But through the tide of shifting heads,
Two walkers move like silver threads.
Their gaze is fixed, their posture proud,
Alone in focus, through the crowd.
No screens, no signs to draw their eyes,
They walk beneath the Melbourne skies,
As if they see a distant shore,
A quiet truth, a something more.
While city hums in scattered thought,
Their silent stride says all it ought—
In chaos, calm; in drift, direction,
Two souls in step with introspection.
Sony A7RV
FE 20-70mm f4 G
Check out Candid 798

















































