Old French Flick... Poem by GRANT FRASER

Old French Flick...



It was weird,
the desperate young lady,
stood there
taking in the landscape,
poeticising, I suppose!

And the camera
kept going,
mowing,
traversing,
encapsulated
in our minds,

'Time collapsing',

Across every horizon
a global rewind,

People, family, strangers,
fleeting as it may have been,
as time doesn't stop
for anything...

Squeezed inside
each hidden millisecond,
a revival of heartbeat & light,
'you were all alive! ',
'I may not have been....',

I doubt much of cast,
even live today...

Dead moments, reversal,
as I run back through black,
to get something back...

Back...Back...Back....

I always sense it, can't press
what isn't there, I don't care,
it just pleads to me -
like 50 yrs.
A ghostly moonlight,

Love that face to bits,
cratered by so many distant
memories,

The skin is so so so thin...
though, aged, dried,
It's only a membrane away....

Wednesday, April 26, 2017
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