From the wings I watch,
The ghostly contrails of wayfaring souls,
Long smears of life before they come,
Then wept in light waves, en echelon
After they go.
We question, which is human
and which is specter –
Who is weeping where, click,
and where is their laughter?

Low, I lie, in wait, and click
Clandestine, a hunter hidden
Body and lens
Who watches me, click,
Whilst I watch them.

Depth’s perception,
lost in life’s montage,
Aloof animation frozen in
death’s mirage
The trail of wind
Behind the train,
The click begins to sigh
As the picture drains.

I am still, my eye the bait
For the beast hidden within
Every traveler’s fate,
Snared in each viscous camera frame
Soft gasps forgotten faces, click,
Never to be seen again,
Yet leave a memory, click,
That of the chimera of a lost friend,
A brass singing bowl, click,
whose waning eerie song never ends.

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