Off Bourke Street Mall,
she sits upon a steel bench,
an elderly Asian woman,
hands clasped firm upon her bag
as though it were a small anchor.
Her gaze drifts outward,
past the restless river of shoes,
the tide of passing strangers
that rises, breaks, and folds again.
Behind her, the bench gleams cold;
before her, the city surges on.
She waits in her stillness,
a quiet figure rooted,
while the world keeps hurrying by.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 928
In a café off Collins Street,
she sits alone,
her left cheek resting heavy
against her left hand
a gesture of weariness,
of weight too quiet to name.
The cup before her cools,
untouched,
its steam fading like
the brightness in her eyes.
Through the window,
the city moves indifferent,
but here, in her stillness,
a sorrow lingers
soft, unspoken,
like a shadow folded
into the hum of day.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 927
At Cucina, just off Collins Street,
a glass window frames the scene
mother and daughter, side by side,
hands curled around warm cups.
Steam drifts upward,
softening their reflections,
while the city hurries past,
its footsteps blurred, unheeding.
Inside, a small island of pause:
their voices low,
woven between sips of coffee,
the sweetness of bond
outlasting the taste of foam.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 926 and FACE OFF
Off Collins Arcade,
a man in a wide-brimmed hat
hauls a heavy bag,
its weight tugging at his shoulder.
His shirt, thin with wear,
clings to him in the afternoon light,
nipples pressing forward,
stark as punctuation marks
against the fabric’s looseness.
Beside him his spouse keeps pace,
steps in quiet rhythm,
their figures slipping
into the current of Swanston Street,
two lives moving forward,
ordinary, unadorned,
yet etched sharply
against the city’s hum.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 925
In Collins Arcade, beneath soft light,
an elderly lady leans
elbow on polished table,
her fist a quiet cradle for the cheek
that has weathered many seasons.
She speaks gently,
words spilling like warm tea
to the friend across from her,
another lady bent toward listening,
their laughter a small, rippling hush
against the café’s clatter.
Two lives, long threaded,
rest a while among cups and chatter,
Collins Street flowing beyond the glass,
while time pauses
folded softly between them.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 924
On Collins Street he makes his way,
A chap in shades, bold in display,
His hair — a wild Ace Ventura crown,
Suede upon suede as he strolls downtown.
A swagger of humour, a comic air,
The city glances, but few quite dare,
To match such style, so brash, so free,
A walking jest in the CBD.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 923
Along Flinders Street the footsteps beat,
A chap moves steady through the heat.
Dark glasses hide his guarded gaze,
A cap pulled low in city haze.
Upon his chest, in black and white,
The Collingwood crest declares its might.
He walks with pride, both firm and free,
A living note in Melbourne’s symphony.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 922
Off Exhibition, the city’s hum,
Where lights command and footsteps drum.
A man in shades, like silver screen,
Stands with his boy, a tender scene.
They wait for green, the crossing’s call,
The child’s small hand enclosed in all.
Beside them stands, with comic air,
A hat askew, a traveller there.
He tugs his strap, adjusts his load,
A wanderer upon the road.
Two moments caught, yet worlds apart—
The star, the fool, both play their part.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 921
On Little Lonsdale, the footsteps flow,
Tourists gather, faces aglow.
A man in cap and darkened shade,
Bows his head where silence stayed.
One lady lifts her searching eyes,
Shirt round her waist beneath the skies.
Another bends with subtle grace,
Adjusts her ear pod in her place.
And one, absorbed, in steady tone,
Frames the world upon her phone.
Among the crowd, in fleeting streams,
Each holds a fragment of their dreams.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 920
In Hosier Lane where colours sing,
And painted walls to life still cling,
Two travellers pause in the sun’s embrace,
Shades on their eyes, the world in their face.
The phone glows bright with its secret chart,
Guiding their steps like a beating heart.
Among murals bold in the laneway’s hue,
They search for a path, yet the art finds them too.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 919
On Swanston Street, where trams hum low,
An Indian man lets the city flow.
Cup in hand, steam curling high,
Like incense drifting to the sky.
The bench holds still, the world moves fast,
Moments like this are never meant to last.
Sip by sip, in the midday light,
He drinks his peace in the urban flight.
Sony A7RV
FE 20-70mm f4 G
Check out
On Swanston Street beneath the sky,
A man in monochrome walks by.
With polo crisp and trousers neat,
He strides along the Melbourne heat.
Sunglasses poised, a borrowed air,
Of nonchalance too sharp to wear.
His Nordic frame, upright and tall,
Pretends he doesn’t care at all.
But shadows know what cool can’t hide
The flicker of a smile inside.
A city moment, caught in grace,
Of style, and pose, and time, and place.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 917 and FACE OFF
Off Swanston Street where trams glide past,
A gent sits down, the crowd flows fast.
His frame is broad, his shirt stretched tight,
A beer gut round, in grayscale light.
But hush the world and let him play
His fingers dance, then drift away.
A melody both rich and clear
Pours from the keys, and draws you near.
No stage, no suit, no grand parade,
Just soul and song in light and shade.
Each note a tale, each pause a breath,
A beauty born from life and depth.
And though the photo’s black and white,
You hear the sound, you feel the light.
A gentle giant, slouched with grace,
Making music in a passing place.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 916
On Swanston Street where shadows lie,
A lady dines beneath the sky,
The clatter fades, the traffic hums,
As camera clicks and stillness comes.
She turns her gaze, both calm and keen,
A moment caught in black and sheen—
One hand rests near a porcelain cup,
The other lifts her silence up.
No words are said, yet eyes confer
A quiet question meant for her:
"Why capture me, in time confined?"
She answers only with her mind.
A city swirls, but she holds still,
Framed by chance, by light, by will.
A stranger’s lens, a fleeting grace
Melbourne breathes in her quiet face.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 915
A young man stands where footsteps stream,
Bourke Street hums, a midday dream.
With fingers dancing, smooth and slow,
He plays the keys in steady flow.
A tattoo winds along his skin,
A tale inked deep, a song within.
He sings with soul, his voice laid bare,
The city pauses, caught mid-air.
Coins may fall, or glances stray,
Yet still he plays the day away—
One man, one sound, one fleeting spark,
A melody that lights the dark.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 913
Off Bourke Street Mall beneath the sun,
Three turned their heads as if as one,
Their gaze drawn right, some scene unseen,
While summer danced with golden sheen.
A woman stood with dress askew,
A patchwork bright of every hue,
She looked as well, her eyes alight,
In fleeting warmth before the night.
Before the chill of winter’s breath,
This moment paused, defying death
Four figures framed by summer’s grace,
Each held by time in sunlit space.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 912 and FACE OFF
On Bourke Street Mall where footsteps blend,
The old stone building stands, a friend.
Its steps now cradle, side by side,
The city's pulse, its beating tide.
From every corner of the earth,
They gather here with quiet mirth
A sari bright, a woven braid,
A turban’s fold, a youth’s cascade.
They speak in silence, laugh in light,
Some scroll their screens, some face the night.
A busker hums, a tram rolls by,
And pigeons watch with beady eye.
No throne nor crown, yet seated high,
They form a world beneath the sky.
A staircase turned to common ground
Here, all the human notes are found.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 911
The chap with a cap on Little Flinders Lane,
Stands in the slant of a morning refrain.
With a cup in hand, he quietly sips,
A smoothie swirling at his lips.
Berry or mango—who’s to say?
His gaze drifts slow with the start of day.
Tram bells ring and footsteps pass,
While time runs thin through café glass.
No rush, no fuss, just city hum,
And fruit-blent calm where thinkers come.
A cap, a cup, and quiet poise
A moment soft in Melbourne noise.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 910
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
Upon Swanston Street, where footsteps meet,
A lone man walks in midday heat.
With earphones snug and singlet white,
He strides ahead, lost from all sight.
The city's hum fades to a tone,
For in his world, he walks alone.
Eyes widely shut, no glance is thrown—
This is his hour, he is the zone.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 889 and FACE OFF
In the sun, she moves with quiet grace,
A pram before her, steady pace.
Down Swanston Street where footsteps flow,
Through the city’s midday glow.
The crowd surges, a restless stream,
Shadows flit and windows gleam.
But she — a calm within the tide,
With a plaid of hair swung to one side.
The tram bell rings, the pigeons stir,
Yet all the world slows down for her.
A mother’s rhythm, firm yet light,
Carving day from neon light.
Melbourne pulses, grand and wide,
But still she walks, with time beside.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 888
A flash of lycra, vivid, tight,
A helmet gleams in morning light.
Down Elizabeth, swift and free,
A biker blurs like poetry.
The city hums, the pavement sings,
Wheels spin dreams on fleeting wings.
Steel and flesh in motion blend—
A rush, a roar, the street’s own friend.
Between the buildings tall and gray,
The cyclist carves a fleeting way.
With every pedal, swift and sure,
The pulse of Melbourne rides secure.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8 GM
Check out Candid 887
Laughter on Bourke
He sat in sun, a man of years,
With laughter loud that chased the fears,
In sunglasses, his joy a flare
That split the noon with blazing care.
Beside him, quiet, his small young son,
A shadow short beneath the sun,
Looked up as if to catch the fire
That lit his father's brief desire.
The street around, a surging tide,
With trams and heels and time's long stride,
Yet in that pause the world stood still—
Just sun and blood, and love’s goodwill.
A city’s heart beat all around,
But sweeter was that human sound:
A father's laugh, deep-cut and real,
That spoke what mouths can’t always feel.
On Bourke they sat, mid noon’s wide sprawl,
Two lives adrift, yet held by all—
By sunlight, kinship, breath, and grace,
And joy that time cannot erase.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8 GM
Check out Candid 886 This has been one of the top 10 favorite posted on my blog here
(Same poem as yesterday)
A youth with mullet trailing wild,
A cap hung low, the city’s child,
Stood firm where footsteps throng and blur,
His violin his saboteur.
With rosined bow and eyes cast low,
He summoned tunes both fast and slow,
Each note a cry, a silver thread
Unspooling dreams the street had shed.
Behind him flowed the tram’s refrain,
Its bell a chime through smoke and rain,
While cars crawled past in tangled streams,
Oblivious to his stitched dreams.
He played not for applause or coin,
But for the world he might rejoin—
Where echoes rise through autumn's breath,
And songs outlive the hush of death.
Bourke watched in greys and neon hue,
As music flared and nightfall grew.
The crowd passed by, then circled round—
A boy, a bow, defying sound.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8 GM
Check out
A youth with mullet trailing wild,
A cap hung low, the city’s child,
Stood firm where footsteps throng and blur,
His violin his saboteur.
With rosined bow and eyes cast low,
He summoned tunes both fast and slow,
Each note a cry, a silver thread
Unspooling dreams the street had shed.
Behind him flowed the tram’s refrain,
Its bell a chime through smoke and rain,
While cars crawled past in tangled streams,
Oblivious to his stitched dreams.
He played not for applause or coin,
But for the world he might rejoin—
Where echoes rise through autumn's breath,
And songs outlive the hush of death.
Bourke watched in greys and neon hue,
As music flared and nightfall grew.
The crowd passed by, then circled round—
A boy, a bow, defying sound.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8 GM
Check out Candid 885
A Lady on Bourke in Greying Light
Upon the cobbles of Bourke Street fair,
Where trams do hum through autumn air,
A lady passed in monochrome,
Her youth aglow though shades had grown.
She walked alone, yet not alone,
For in her ears sweet tunes had flown,
A Walkman played its whispered song,
A timeworn tape that sang along.
Her tresses curled like drifting flame,
Though black and white concealed her name,
She bore her spoils in papered grace,
From shops agleam in city’s face.
A bum bag slung with no pretense,
‘Twixt fashion’s flair and innocence,
She paused beneath the falling leaves,
As dusk drew in on gentle eves.
No winter yet, but chill in shade,
The light grew thin, yet undismayed,
She danced in step with music’s flow,
A fleeting ghost from long ago.
And though the years may swiftly pass,
Like tramlines threading panes of glass,
Still in that frame she softly stands—
A song, a stroll, two listening hands.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8 GM
Check out Candid 884 and FACE OFF
