I take off my glasses
To see you, with eyes closed
Polishing my breathing camera;
My crown of observation
My peaceful podium
Paired with Devine binoculars
Overlooking the 'scape
I open my eyes
To precious galaxies 
Of bounding rivers
And sentient beings
My rusty fingers
Fumbling with 
Technique 
Bounds to capture
And fold A dream
Into an ancient Polaroid picture
Shoved in the pant pocket
Of a passing stranger.