The air was thick with anticipation,
as they huddled close together, grateful
for borrowed breath from world.
The clouds swirl about like gauzy curtains,
as a series of wild thoughts swam into
their heads, as though awaiting unseen
winds and spirits.
In life we are drawn to everything
strange and surreal and at times care not
if theory seems far-fetched.
We can see the ugly words that hurt,
or the pain that lies underneath, often we
fall into this trap and confuse looking
And though black remains black, and
white would always be white, our eyes
only see what our mind chooses
Photo credits: Circus, Budapest, 19 May 1920
Posted on ‘Camera Flash’ @ Real Toads
and on ‘Poetry Pantry’ @ Poets United