Here's day twenty-three's: submission for NaPoWriMo (a poem a day for the month of April in honor of National Poetry Month):
If the roof of my car crumples
because I climb upon it
to get a better angle on a photograph
what the hell will happen
if it rolls over in an accident?
I thought this today as I watched a young man
with two cameras slung over his shoulders
stand, ankle deep in the roof of his Jeep
as he photographed the tulip fields south of town.
I was photographing too, from the ground.
I recalled Ansel Adams
put a top of solid plywood
on the roof-rack of his station wagon
so he could see the world from new heights,
reflected on the glass of his 8x10 view camera –
a new perspective hidden under the dark cloth
of an upside-down, reversed scene.
He shot ‘Moonrise, Hernandez, New Mexico’
from up there.
“If I could get a shot like that,”
the young man was probably thinking,
“it’s worth bumping my head
all the way home.”