The Picture Factory
in my head
sends out its
Best Cinematographer
when I read a poem

It has to be someone who
can show me things
has seen through every lense
knows what’s real
and who pretends

Has scrapped banacles off sunken boats,
cried over justice, seen who hits the notes

Flown bullet riddled skies
seen paradise in disguise

Wandered woods, looking at leaves
experienced the wonder of big trees

Watched a flower from seed to bloom
wither in the heat far too soon

scaled to the highest destinations
be distracted by lesser sensations

has pictures of all the stars in the sky
shows poems come alive or where they die

this Cinematographer shows up fast
good or bad, shows things that last

knows how pictures tell a tale
just how words both love and rail…!