She sits beneath the window light,
her world composed in black and white.
camera held with steady grace,
to frame the city’s silent face.
A leather book, its pages closed,
beside her rests, in weathered pose,
the title worn by time and care,
but one line lingers, faint and bare:
“I am not afraid of failure,”
wise message is custom tailored.
she flicked her hair, broke from deep haze,
a sign of hope to drench her days.
She lifts the lens with steady grace,
and frames the city’s shifting face.
Clock tower tall, its hands mid flight,
large buildings cast in golden light.
Yet closer still, the world turns strange,
dark shadows move beyond her range.
Figures soon blur, like thoughts unfound,
distorted shapes move without sound.
Their edges smear, their faces gone,
like thoughts half formed before the dawn.
Distorted shapes, unsure, unclear,
yet somehow oddly drawing near.
She clicks, then waits, her breath held tight,
between the shadow and the light.
With book in hand and lens in eye,
watches as reflections pass by.
– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy
Response to Sadje’s picture prompt on What Do You See # 293 June 16, 2025
This weeks prompt offered two picture options. This poem was inspired by both pictures. 💕
