it begins as an observation captured in a shutter
A single second
within you, within the world, within the moment.

Approach things at an angle
As you would with a camera
You flood your work with perspective and meaning, with love and hope
Stamp yourself to it
Claim it as your love

However sometimes you find yourself
At the top of the hill
The edge of the cliff
The perfect second
You click and its gone
No film, no perfect moment captured
It will never be the same
As your words fall off the line
Dissolved by time
You lay there
In pieces
Just like your work

Then with every year you lay your poetry
Alongside a wall, a table, anything
You will step back to find your story

So with that being said
if poetry should ever be photography - then -
it would be the photography of your soul.