A path unfolds, mid-March's breath,
No snow remains, just whispers of death.
A white camera clutched, sharp lens in hand,
Capturing moments, a world unplanned.
Click—branches with blossoms anew,
Click—mountains of snow, melting through.
The sun peers down, a lake reflects,
A coyote's glance, nature connects.
A flower blooms where none should rise,
Near an apple tree, under cloudy skies.
The wishing well frozen, coins held tight,
The ice shatters, releasing light.
One by one, five wishes tossed,
Dreams reclaimed, nothing lost.
A photo of coins, reflections that gleam,
Memories captured, stitched in a dream.
By the river, the bench gives rest,
March's cool air cradles the guest.
The camera lifts, framing the scene,
Click, click, click—life serene.
YOU ARE READING
Through my lens
PoetryStep into the vibrant mind of a poet and writer, where creativity knows no bounds. Dive into the joy of storytelling through poetry, where each verse offers a glimpse into unique perspectives and untold tales. Let yourself be drawn into the visual s...
