The Moment
It is always my hope that the viewer will feel what I did at the time that I shot my image. This gentleman was walking into the sweet spot of this scene at just the right time for me to capture it. The human form heightened the emotion I felt as the scene unfolded before me.
Melinda Martin
on July 7, 2017poet Margaret Atwood #87 on top 500 poets Poet's PagePoemsQuotesCommentsStatsBiographyShare on FacebookShare on Twitter
Poems by Margaret Atwood : 23 / 30 « prev. poem next poem »
The Moment - Poem by Margaret Atwood
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The moment when, after many years
of hard work and a long voyage
you stand in the centre of your room,
house, half-acre, square mile, island, country,
knowing at last how you got there,
and say, I own this,
is the same moment when the trees unloose
their soft arms from around you,
the birds take back their language,
the cliffs fissure and collapse,
the air moves back from you like a wave
and you can't breathe.
No, they whisper. You own nothing.
You were a visitor, time after time
climbing the hill, planting the flag, proclaiming.
We never belonged to you.
You never found us.
It was always the other way round.
Margaret Atwood