Waiting For The Flash
I wasn't sure if a photo could express
Ekphrastic poetry, but decided to have
a go and see if it worked.
Childhood is such a mystery to me,
speculates the man behind the lens:
gesturing signals hoping for a pose,
that image portrayed in his mind.
How do I proceed at my youthful age?
I'm trying my hardest – I wonder is he
troubled? His energy is all around...
apologies for not doing my best sir,
It doesn't make sense but I'll be civil,
stand proud like the captain of a ship;
well groomed and positioned casually,
ready, able to take on any job at hand,
when I become an adult, maybe! Just
maybe I'll voyage across white capped
waves – feel those sailors passions,
saluting an ocean of risky adventures,
for all one knows I might be compelled to
drape nets, trawling for fish, body flexible,
strong and muscular, a fitting job for a future
man, restless and eager to carve out his career,
Breathing deeply in acute visions,
for now I'll just settle for complying;
stance upright, but not presumptuous,
just an ordinary boy waiting for the flash.
The Photo is of my Granddad when he was ten.