Mr. White
the morning
after
your funeral
I see …
that you have died
70’s too young, Bill
ain’t it
you had a cowboy way about you
a loner on the range
ready to ride out
at first light
in the dew and mist
ever searching for something
intangible to capture
you taught me how
to take a decent shot
even got an A
in your photojournalism class
and since it’s a small world
I’d end up sitting next to you
in the newsroom
you were a better photographer than a writer
great photos need no words
you carried a camera around
like some men carry guns
prepared
you were hard to read
smiling with that gap in your teeth
and raising a wired brow
your eyes seemed to hold secrets
maybe painful ones
we never talked like that
but you did love to talk about surface things
your photos delved deeper
for a close reader
TL