Across the street,
I bow to you
And to everything that appears in you,
Momentarily
And never again the same way:
This street with its pink sky,
Row of gray tenements,
A lone dog,
Children on rollerskates,
Woman buying flowers,
Someone looking lost.
In you, mirror framed in gold
And carried across the street
By someone I can't even see,
To whom, too, I bow.
[Photo by Vivian Maier.] |
Awesome, I love how this poem plays with perspective!
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