Picture Perfect
The bow in the sky
Shot its silver darts down to earth
And I shot right back at it
With the faulty camera in my hands
And the faulty camera in my mind
I know that those imprints
Will live longer on my computer
Than the hard drive in my head
I flicked through the grainy shadows
Of the moment I tried to capture,
And sighed at the sad truth
That the picture was always more beautiful
In that visceral view
I returned to that day,
I adjusted the perspective
And in the flash of a bulb
It was clear;
The image has faded,
The impression remained
And has woven itself into my soul fabric
Twisted tightly
In an iridescent
Psychedelic
Sensory braid.
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