How many times have you taken the same picture?
In cities and hotels and stranger’s rooms
and even your own, the same picture,
a long darkness with light in the distance,
just out of reach.
About this poem
It’s true, I take a lot of images like this one. I have them from all over the world. (This one is from Rome, Italy.) It seems the same things draw me, where ever I go. Says something about me, I suspect, but I am not therapist enough to be sure what.