The beach, the south side, Esquimalt,
dancers come into view, pas de deux.
Our dogs sniff & whizz while the dancers
whirl in the light / out comes my camera —
snap snap snap — raised to the unexpected
(how often do you stumble upon dancers
on a beach?) Furious waves foam
not from the water below but from the lookout
above, arms flapping high overhead.
Squinting, we see the movie camera.
“You spoiled the shot.” Accusing tones.
“We didn’t realize.” Our poor defense.
And later: “You took photos of my actors.”
“Yes.” I scuff my feet on the dirt path.
“We have a permit. We are allowed here.
All the images of my actors belong to me.
Please delete.” I push my button, gone.
The unexpected vanishes, leaves behind
only the planned, papered, duly permitted.
The dogs run off on another scent.
Download the complete collection of poems and accompanying photographs as a pdf book.