There are times when a mystery is welcome,
and there are times when it’s not wanted at all...
I’m not talking about the theater kind of mystery
or the mystery that keeps me coming back to a book
but the one that comes roaring or creeping
into dreams at night, welcome or not to provoke
and scare the living daylights out of cold sober
watchers, and for somebody a little drunk...
you don’t even want to go there. I watched
in broad daylight something that I understood
to be understood by everyone who saw it,
but I aimed my camera and snapped a couple
because I knew a picture would be mysterious
even when in real life and in real time no mystery
existed, but I liked the idea of it so much that
I let it play with my mind, with my blurred reality,
and I remembered that Einstein said emphatically
that imagination is better than knowledge so...