Rooftop Photograph

angling towards the camera, the
eye that would have your soul

checking the light, and the filter
so some other can scan it into

the brainpan, in black and white, the
sun soon to set beyond the rooftops

were there pigeons? perhaps.

holding the corners, delicate,
as I hold you, edges so sharp,

still cutting clear, the sky unclouded,
a pane wiped of rain, the mirror

reflecting back, my eyes upon you always