The Adventure

“Till now I have never shot a scene without taking account of what stands behind the actors because the relationship between people and their surroundings is of prime importance.”
– Michelangelo Antonioni


The director noticed what I couldn’t myself:
wind brushing cherry trees
furry pines with fingers

lilac petals conveyed
on spools of air
confetti rush speckling the grass

starling calls carried downwind,
chattering gray fur
scrambling up oak bark

the space between houses,
columns of air
solemn updrafts, something voiceless

pregnant vapors, thin silences,
beside us always, if we care to notice
the underside of wings.


We are idlers merging into frame,
backdrop to foreground
abstract to concrete, a seeming becoming

figures, people on the grass:
languid women, subtle strangers,
displaced couples, kids on spokes,

hobbyists with rockets,
a hand, a pistol
tennis players without ball or net,

miming ourselves, as if someone might see,
this camera eye, a point of view,
absorbing the viscosity of sight,

it gathers our gestures, our longing:
sweet, lonesome strokes of light set over
fields of color, leaf, rock, sea, cloud.