“You are a little soul carrying around a corpse.” Epictetus

Manhattan, A Photographer’s Journey by Henry Barnard

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Now the leaves, relentless, fast decay,
And memory grows dimmer day by day.
Old age seeps into joints and sinews furtively.
Shedding white hair grows tousled unbecomingly.
All your dreams long since past…
Purpose seems a bloated outcast.
Hope and aspirations retarded;
Fleeting time, spent, never recovered.
The young fear Mr. Death —
Not to be cheated of their experience,
But the old have had their time,
So, for them, he may be kind.

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Death, the unknowable,
Hangs over one’s aged head
Like the sword of Damocles.
Will one depart with just a whisper
Into the endless night…
Forsake all sight and sound,
All touch and taste,
With the last breath?
No second chances in the dark embrace.
No redemption in silent time.
Not even adrift.
Nowhere.
Nothing.

What do you get for a one dollar contribution? My gratitude.
If you enjoyed the post, you can help me keeping blogging along with just a one dollar contribution. You can contribute more by increasing the quantity — each increase by 1 is an additional dollar. Thanks for your support in this blog-eat-blog world.
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What do you get for a one dollar contribution? My gratitude.
If you enjoyed the post, you can help me keeping blogging along with just a one dollar contribution. You can contribute more by increasing the quantity — each increase by 1 is an additional dollar. Thanks for your support in this blog-eat-blog world.
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“Seize the day.” Horace
Springtime.
A solitary old man sits on a bench,
His cane resting at his side,
His doleful eyes glance about the park,
But, restless, do not dwell for long.
Then he hears children playing with a beach ball,
And turns to see them standing in a circle.
The ball darts back and forth between them,
Kept from touching the ground – the challenge.
Their voices excited, laughing, shouting, urgent, gay –
Merriment of youth.
A tall girl hits the ball with a tight fist.
But it shoots straight up and gets snagged by branches —
The ball now suspended and out of reach.
Squeals of excitement and angst from the children
Proclaim their predicament.
A smile flickers across the old man’s face…
A twinkle in his eye.

What do you get for a one dollar contribution? My gratitude.
If you enjoyed the post, you can help me keeping blogging along with just a one dollar contribution. You can contribute more by increasing the quantity — each increase by 1 is an additional dollar. Thanks for your support in this blog-eat-blog world.
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Manhattan, A Photographer’s Journey by Henry Barnard

Digital download of the JPEG file for this photograph.
If you buy this photograph, I will be sending you an email in a day or two with a link to its JPG file. You will then download the file into your computer in its Download or Picture folder or whichever folder you choose. You can use it on your PC as you will, just to look at now and then or as a screen saver after you configure your computer to use it as such. Up to you.
$2.00

People, A Photographer’s Perspective by Henry Barnard

What do you get for a one dollar contribution? My gratitude.
If you enjoyed the post, you can help me keeping blogging along with just a one dollar contribution. You can contribute more by increasing the quantity — each increase by 1 is an additional dollar. Thanks for your support in this blog-eat-blog world.
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