Tuesday, September 21, 2010

poem

lets just walk at night

and take pictures of the crazy things we see.

Telling stories from our memories.

I'll show you the knights and dragons,

you'll show me the maiden fair.

We'll spin a tale through the midnight air.

As we capture the silent still in our black lenses
ghosts and goblins caught on the negatives.

Racing through the shots and scenes,
the connection growing like a weed.

And when we come the the end of the path,

film spent and story waned,

i'll gasp as we look back and you'll take my hand,

as we trek back, once again.

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