The Photograph Poem by PAUL COLVIN
The Photograph
His eyes. What does he see?
His mind. Where is it now?
Those thoughts, that look,
I wish I knew.
I want inside his head!
A smile, not of laughter,
A memory recalled,
Reminiscing for just one take,
His curtain call
Before the final click
Then it’s lost to all
But him.
It’s personal.
It is really something, to observe a person closely. To become a fly on the wall. Lovely write, I really like this one.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/17/2024 2:35:56 AM # 1.0.0.1119
'A picture paints a thousand words' just as the poet paints a thousand pictures...well done. -SG