Peeling paint curls on the depot wall
Your camera sits in a canvas bag
Salt air rusts the shutter's metal call
Thirty-six frames wait for a flag
Wind blows sand across the track
Light hits glass and doesn't look back
Load the film and wind the frame
Catch the depot in morning gray
Salt on the lens but you shoot the same
One click holds the whole long day
Telegraph wire hums low and tight
Gulls circle where the freighter passed
You focus slow in the thinning light
Aperture wide to make it last
Wind blows sand across the track
Light hits glass and doesn't look back
Load the film and wind the frame
Catch the depot in morning gray
Salt on the lens but you shoot the same
One click holds the whole long day
Negative strips in a tin box sleep
Developer waits in a chipped white cup
The keeper's log you no longer keep
Still you measure light still you look up
No foghorn now to mark the hour
Just the shutter's quiet power
Silver halide time made visible
You develop what was invisible
Prints dry clipped on a cotton line
Depot roof holds the gulls' white cry
Each image sharp as a lighthouse sign
Salt on the lens you don't ask why
Load the film and wind the frame
Catch the depot in morning gray
Salt on the lens but you shoot
