Ongoing #26

The next poem, like the last one, is about a scene from my travels. In this case about watching the view across the Mekong from a hotel in Laos. The doodle is a strip of film in which to draw pictures.

The Perfect Moment

Waiting for the perfect moment,
For the sun to touch the ground;
Waiting as the birds' strange songs
Counterpoint the river's soothing sound,
Waiting in a broken wicker chair;
Waiting on the balcony, sipping tea;
Waiting for the perfect moment,
There is my camera and there's me.

Colour creeps into the faded sky,
And out of the fading land.
The trees that frame the golden water
Become blackened where they stand
And the sun is, for a moment, balanced
Where mountains from horizon climb
And the perfect moment comes, and goes;
A single shutter-click of time.