By Bob Ecker

Near empty street, tripod in hand

Velvet blackness brackets the canvas

Pickpocketed by distant colored light

I feel the untrammeled beauty but shiver

On this cold November night

Camera poised, record twinkling in time

Such powerful reflections in my eye

Like other evenings within my heart

Heady effort in working, searching I spy

On city living, breathing quiet air

Slow shutter holding life suspenseful

What will become of these precious seconds?

Freedom beckons around another corner

Neon beer to drink with strangers

Meet the owners and talk to waiters

Tall door opens and shutters so softly

Now quickly back alone in the cold

The still street whispers my name

Return to my world, my focus and film