Snapshot

Today I found my camera. She is small, digital and Japanese,
her instructions are in a foreign language: English.

Slipping her from her case I notice twenty buttons designed to confuse me,
I am reminded of a ship with a competent crew whose captain cannot read a comlenspass.

With a recent history too painful to catalog she has not been used lately,
though her memory may contain a few blurred and misshapen masterpieces.

Her batteries, removed long ago as an act of kindness, lie upstairs in a drawer,
inside her there is a genie awaiting a new master, someone to press those buttons.

Carefully replacing her into her black and red tomb I set her down
between a lamp with no bulb and an mp3 player that refuses to speak to me.

 

 

poem © copyright Brian Shirra 2011

Advertisements

Go on, give me some feedback..

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s