I’ve been disappointed with my pictures as of late. What I sense as I walk Sport, or wander back and forth to the office, isn’t making itself into the images I expect. Or maybe it is.
It could be these gray days, lack of contrast. It could be my that little camera can’t capture the depth of fall. It could be a general flatness in tone, attitude. Mine, my world.
There are no trees here, they are frames
for froth. Stick-thin girls walk a runway
covered in green animal fur. Five breaking wrists
display their meat on a spit. Or curlicue
letters from some text an acolyte laid
by candle, now musty. Covered by history’s
protective veil, Edward Gorey creatures distill
in gloam. They hide more than I like.
* * *
Love me some Gorey.
No related posts.
Marvelous, Deb! I wanted to cut n paste the lines I especially liked here, but the whole poem is made of lines I especially like, so I couldn’t do it.
:-) Thank you, Dale.
I find the same with a lot of my photos at this time of year, the glorious riot of autumnal colours becomes a confusion on the photo.
It helps to know others have a similar difficulty.
[...] Stoney Moss There are no trees here, they are frames for froth. Stick-thin girls walk a runway covered in green animal fur. Five breaking wrists display their meat on a spit. —- This entry was posted Tuesday, November 17th, 2009 at 2:50 pm and is filed under Smorgasblog. Print [...]
I think the photo is beautiful and captures you mood (or the other way around) perfectly!
Yay! Glad it works for you.
this photo is great, its accompanying words too. talk with you later.
Thank you. :-)
I love the moody photo, and “frames for froth.”
Much more interesting than all the exploding colors of foliage season.
smile
:-)
I love this photograph and your writing… been back a few times. Very finely done.
Thank you, Brenda!