time worn

Waiting for a bus.

The sound of the Kelvin River gurgling behind. The rust creep of this fence. Paint stripped and flaking in the oxygen of the road. The eye follows the lines converging at the bend. And I frame it. With the scalpel of my camera I puncture a rectangle out of time's journey. Its corrosion that exposes the colour mulch of layers in the fence's design. Little temporal flecks. I cut this canvas from the moving picture of the day. Capture it in the camera's memory, the computer screen, the smart phone.

It was just a cut in time. A sliced out moment. Thought up and framed.

The bus approaches. Indicator lights flashing. It is shiny new and sighs open its doors and I board it to my destination. A little slice of the past, already time worn, snug in the logic of my camera.