remember, I remember, the Brownie I once had,
little window where I peered when I was just a lad.
magic box of tricks it seemed, that present from my Dad.
correct exposure, I had never yet been told;
rules of composition would no doubt have left me cold.
snapped away without a care - I wasn’t very old.
passed. I bought a camera
with lots of knobs and screw;
read in photographic books the things one shouldn’t do;
number of the shots I took grew less the more I knew.
seldom did I seem to get the conditions right
clouds were wrong or maybe the direction of the light
days that were not far too dull were mostly much too bright.
now I own a camera with shining knobs galore,
almost it would seem I don’t take photos any more,
sometimes I have wished I had my Brownie as before.)