The Eye of Fame
Resting alone, the eye of the
coming storm,
nervously awake, her
own space of mirrors and light.
Vanishing to the streets in
style, her own style
made timeless by a Paris memory,
in these quarter-heal leather
shoes she walks
and walks in; the restless
streets, skyline
“…vivid against the little soft
cities.” Demolition men
enter the frame, and a woman
being canoodled,
incredulity that the camera
lady comes so close, fascination
at this twin lens shooter, the
steady aim. Cardsharps
interested as if: “Hey, a dame
just took a picture.”
Kenneth hyam may 2013
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