The Heart of a Photographer

A child's Christmas arrives.

Heart quickens as torn wrappings
reveal a Kodak Instamatic

with a box of flash cubes

and a roll of film.

The first dozen shots

snapped in rapid succession.

Film dropped into an envelope;
the mail order lab

entrusted with her

prized prints.

Waiting begins.
Sitting on the rock wall

across from the

big, black mail box
on route 56.

Straining her eyes
for the first glimpse
of the mail truck.

The agony of waiting.

Black and white

because meager

allowances don't allow

extravagances

like Kodachrome.

The heart of a photographer

beat inside the young girl's chest.

Another Christmas 
season comes to pass;

a real camera,
the Canon SLR
opens up the possibilities.

Still film, but color

this time.

Wandering aisles

waiting for

one-hour photo labs

to deliver on their promise.

Whole rolls of film

reveal only the slightest hints of

budding talent.

The heart of a photographer

yearning for perfection.

Babies come;

creativity takes a backseat

to documenting firsts:

first smiles, 
first steps, 
first days.

Digital allows

many more shots,

many more mistakes,

quickly forgiven 
and forgotten

with the ease of deletion.

The heart of the photographer

filled to overflowing as

scrapbooks filled

with photos and mementos
of her children.

Retirement arrives.
There is time once again

to compose the shot,

consider the light,

and critique the results.

Black and white

captures mood;

creates clarity and contrast.

Occasional bursts of genius

encourage the heart

to follow its beating rhythm.

Love is found.
There are nearly always

two cameras now.

The heart of this photographer

joins the heart of another.

Their pictures tell the story
of two hearts
beating as one.