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Take a Picture by Basil Picard
The lens struggles to focus . Vague masses of green , memories Of a rotted stump , puddles Reflecting nothing at all . Birds sound from a power line . Just how many flowers are there ? I find myself unable to tell . Counting purple — no , white spots . I look down at my camera : The image isn ’ t nearly as focused . “ Take a picture ,” they say , “ You ’ ll remember it better .”