Abandoned Companion

After weeks of scorching hot august days,
the sun cools down.
We seek our refuge in an abandoned mill, in a forgotten town.
Crushing dead leaves and broken glass under our soles,
crinkles and snaps echo through the empty halls.

We reach a open room,
lit by the sun.
Nothing in there but graffiti,
and empty cans of krylon.
Some bench that teens last summer made out of old pallets and wood,
i follow your footsteps,
my holga in hand.
We sit.
Enjoy the stagnant air.

For these magical moments, we can trust.
will look so nostalgic in an old shoebox.
the grain, the grit.
the leaves, the sticks.
saturation and shadow.
Raw feelings developed, like no other camera could capture.

We raise our cans,
and praise times old.
Rewind the film.
Then hit the road.

written by jive on 2011-02-11