Poem: The Focus Lens
By: JD DeHart
Take one from the sixth floor,
On his way to some waterfall
Or casual acquaintance.
Loping, coffee in hand,
Does he think, ponder, look up
At me, a creature on the cloud
Encased by white outlines and glass?
Take two, from the sixth floor,
The girl dropping soda bottle from
Fourth floor down to one.
We know she is a boy when looking
Closer. Boys are much more likely
To drop soda bottles.
The final take, one brief glance,
The man on the catwalk
Watching me watching them,
Thinking, when will he look up?