To the Pictured Photographer

Your bare knees – exposed between your black skirt’s
hem and laced tops of combat boots – are bent,
crouched for a leap; your blue-bloused torso leans
back as if your slight pack pulled your shoulders;
elbows forward; camera held to your eye.

Your pal’s ebony boots disappear beneath
her ankle-length denim dress. Her hands hang
at her waist as she waits, rucksack at the ready
to continue your urban hike. You both
gaze out of the frame fascinated – by

what we’ll never know since your photographer
focused solely on you, unwitting models
for his boot-lovers’ Web site. Your friend’s face
has been digitally erased to protect
her privacy, but yours is unretouched,

your features still intact behind your lens,
which, by obscuring it, saved your visage.

Copyright © 2010 by Anthony W. Artuso