Blue Flowers

The settings were off when you took the picture,
casting everything, flowers and all, in blue.

There is a temptation to do the work,
to use the magic of software to fix it,

render the flowers yellow, the grass green,
the stones of the quarry in morning grey.

And it is a temptation. You are a fixer,
and you have a propensity for beauty,
A need for it, so much so you often see
what others do not. a flaw perhaps

but one you own gladly. happy to live
in a world others often do not.

It is a temptation, but you do not succumb.
At times, mistakes reveal truths,

And when you look within, deep, this marred image
is perfect, and true.

About this poem

About photographs, about my rose-colored tendencies, about depression. Don’t ask me how those all work together. Sometimes things just are.

The picture was taken in the quarry across the street from my house.

Tom