I ran through an icy dew
facing another light
blinded by those distant rays
in a land abandoned by greed.
Desert of humanity so frail
I see a dilapidated realm in the distance
warm in the embrace of a gentle dress
of silk I let the cosmos inflate this breast.
Given to infinity I lie among the blades
grass almost still in a soft breeze
unsure of what this shell may mean
waiting for another gift.
It seems not long ago I slept in the cradle
a life whose secrets were preciously kept
awaited me with every dawning sun
atop the mouth of an ancient fire.
In awe before the breath within those veins
a tingling invades the flesh I venture to touch
pearls roll down my sides and sublime
I extend my arms to welcome another life.
Photography, like I would suggest any other art form, is poetry; it is language. To speak of one’s words and choices of syntax, is very difficult. How often does the creator of his own work stops to observe, analyze, dissect and discuss his own work from the inside in? All queries are legitimate from the mind of the viewer, but where lie the answers? All I can suggest is possibilities, options, and let the observer decide for himself. These photographs combine the use of ice and glass to give a different view of what surrounds us, here wild flowers, stone and the inside of a cathedral.
Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and many other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, the San Pedro River Review as well as other publications.
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