Blurry
Distant
Detached
Never really loved you
But had to experience you
Now, observing from afar
Looking down
From a vantage point
Bittersweet
The child, like the colours of the time
Sometimes orange
Yellow
Brown
The only glow
T.V in the corner
Like a candle in the dark.
There was a time
When photos
Didn’t trigger
Or determine
A flash fire emotion
Or a lazy sensory response
Requiring no effort.
There was a time
When the written word
Or a poignant meaningful photo
Painting a thousand words
Wasn’t replaced by a selfie
Railroading us down a pathway
Where no thought is necessary
And no imagination is required.
There was a time
When the written word could stand alone
Hold its own and speak for itself
Without that illustrated companion.
There was a time
Imagination was key
You heard that song
You had your own personal story in mind
And then you saw the video
And it was all gone, spoilt, in an instant.
Now is the time
Image is key
And photos of a certain type speak
Without need for any words at all
Would such a photo have as much to say
As a book read before bedtime
Would it keep us as warm at night?
‘Do you know what happens to people who set about learning to skate with a determination to get no falls? They fall as often as the rest of us, and they cannot skate in the end.’
‘Autumn is the mellower season, and what we lose in flowers we more than gain in fruits.’
‘She was thinking only that “some other time” had a delightful sound; it seemed to spread itself over the future.’
Things In My Head 