June. A daybreak campfire.

June.  A daybreak campfire.

Through night I lay awake.
Through pines I step daybreak.
Trying to conjure sentences that describe your influence.
On my world,
On my upbringing,
On your connate nature.
Father.

The gang of hoodlum crows,
A rising call to prayer.
Before the sun,
Before my father,
In frosted daybreak,
Sparks stretch to fire.

I have sooted vision obstructed.
Breath and ember converge,
Tidewaters swell above my eyes.
And drip...
And breath to ember births one so wise,
So speechless,
So modest,
Yet lethal,
And honest.

June. A daybreak campfire.
June. A connectional amplifier.
June. Through kinsfolk I admire.

- Jenna Collins

35mm Film Photography - Nikon FM2