On Being A Poet And Photographer

By Lily

Spilled ink.
Old film.
Crumpled paper.
The click of a shutter.
Pens dying.
Wiping lenses.
Flashlights under the covers.
Struggling with a tripod.
The Rule of Thirds.
Tattered pages.
Beautiful sunsets.
Coffee shops.
Skittish animals.
3 am.
Always thinking.
The horizon line.
The frantic search for pen and paper.
Frustrated with trying to capture the beauty of the world In a small package.

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