A Wider Lens   I guess I’m no photographer. I tried to take a picture (a paltry ambition, this desire to take, bag trophies, hide behind the lens), but the thing that I wished for wasn’t a thing at all. I got beauty as glimpsed through a porthole, but that’s not how it looked from the crow’s nest, where the view was limitless. If my camera caught a trick of the light, it was just by accident — the light was alive and elusive. Where was the oceanic swell, the gentle rolling of the sea? I got the fact but not the feel, and no hint of the dues I’d paid to get there, or what it all meant.     © Michael Fleming Brattleboro, Vermont May 2021