a need to focus

dandelion clock
I bought my first digital camera a long time ago, when I confirmed the sale of a photo-essay to a local glossy magazine. Since then, I haven’t made much of an effort to sell my articles, but those I have placed have often been illustrated with my own pictures. And, of course, I use my photos on this blog: other than screen shots, I don’t think there are a dozen images here that I didn’t take.

I’ve had several cameras over the years, the most recent of which allows the user a lot of control. I’ve been promising myself I’ll learn to use all the dials and buttons, but I usually get by with it on automatic; as I must have had it three years, I guess I shouldn’t kid myself any longer.

Anyway, it seems that it may not be worth learning more: I fear my photos will never really improve.

I took a series of a dandelion clock the other day and when I tried to select one for the blog, I realised I just can’t tell any more whether the pictures are in focus or not. I spend far too long in front of the computer screen and my sight is obviously deteriorating.

All of which is really no more than pre-amble as an excuse to post this old poem:


I’ve lost my glasses, without which I’m blind

as any clichéd pipistrelle. I’ve searched

in all the places that I knew they weren’t

– and I was right: they haven’t dropped behind

the tumble dryer, underneath the bed,

or in the trash; they aren’t perched on my head.

I’ve been through all the coats I never wear,

I even looked in John’s new jacket. There

I found a letter whose calligraphy

I didn’t know. Despite the cataracts,

my sight’s still good enough for me to read

a woman’s signature. So now, the fact

I’ve lost my specs no longer bothers me:

I’m focusing on other things, you see.


Author: don't confuse the narrator

Exploring the boundary between writer and narrator through first person poetry, prose and opinion

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