Not guilty

With the head in the clouds,
topsy-turvy,
the reflection reversed –
a rare tool that I allow myself.

What does it say about me?

No filters,
no unnatural colours –
that is all sunset,
no excessive saturation,
no black and whites,
but especially no elimination.

They edit out power grid lines now, I hear.
There’s an app.

Where do birds land in their worlds?

Before I click
she knows that I’m here,
fiddling with my camera.
Potential danger.

She keeps an eye on me,
waiting for the camera to lift to life
as she has seen
so that she can hide her face in time.

Not guilty

But what she doesn’t know
is that she exists in the puddle as well:
cold
but not frozen,
posed
but not posing,
caught
but not guilty.

Me
her
either
both.