Revisionist Poetry – “Toward the Cloudline” – Up Towards the Clouds, v.2

On a flawless morning,
the skyline rises in layered stone,
its towers reaching
as if to test the weather,
their crowns half-lost
in threads of cloud.

The photographer tilts back his head,
searching for a vantage
where distance becomes astonishment,
where height feels like a dare
and the air itself
seems ready to lift him.

Below, the city keeps its pulse:
buses sigh at the curb,
crosswalks flash,
voices rise and break
against the streetlight glare.
Still, behind the viewfinder,
he grows quiet.

Each frame gathers a different world:
glass, shadow, vapour,
the sudden angle of a cornice,
the white drift of cloud
slipping over a rooftop.
What he captures is not only a city,
but the breath between its motions.

On this flawless morning,
he understands his calling
in the way the skyline vanishes
and returns,
vanishes and returns,
as if the city were teaching him
how to see.