Unlike a film camera, the digital permits no double exposure.
But double exposure is standard in the camera that is the human eye.
I see my teenage son playing basketball in the park
and also my four-year-old riding his trike in that same park,
weaving in and out of my teenage son's way.
Over there is the same park bench
where his mother and I once embraced as lovers.
But the bench is now empty.
My son rides his trike; lovers embrace on that bench.
My son plays basketball; the bench is empty.
The bench is empty; Lovers once embraced.
Basketball, tricycle, lovers, empty bench.
Past and present pose in the camera that is my eye,
a messy album of snapshots, a slapped together collage.
The word camera implies a chamber
and camera obscura implies a dark chamber,
a dark room where my mind develops what my eyes see,
double, triple, infinite exposures, and strobes of recollections.
And when I turn my camera around to face my eyes
it pictures the melancholy reflecting behind them.
Richard Fein was a finalist in The 2004 New York Center for Book Arts Chapbook Competition. A chapbook of his poems was published by Parallel Press, University of Wisconsin, Madison. He has been published in many web and print journals such as Cordite, Cortland Review, Reed, Southern Review, Roanoke Review, and many others.