to a documentary filmmaker

Make us a movie, a story you’ll tell

in dancing light, take us to the show, weave

strips of focused vision peeled from the swelling

surface of what you live, see, believe.

Edit ruthlessly, lovingly, and don’t

leave out the rough cuts, the odd frames of real

life still pulsing, still clinging to the bones

in the can. Mix the sound to make us feel

embraced by the voices and the quiet.

Blend it all — the music of the moment,

rendered magical when at last it’s set

unspooling into the light. This all meant

nothing when it merely was. Now it means:

open your eyes to what’s beyond the screen.

© Michael Fleming

Lake Forest, Illinois

October 1998