Bob R's Stuff
At the market in Sapa, in northern Vietnam. A woman who sold me stuff I’ll never wear.
It’s a poem. Those are the photographer’s words. He may not realize he’s committed poetry, but there it is. Eliot (T.S., not George) said genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood, and so it is in this case. You look at that photo, you read those seventeen words—and everything you need to know, you know; and you know it before you realize you know it. You take in the fabric behind her, the old Butterfly sewing machine and the handwheel with the finish worn off, you take in her face and you know something of her story—you know her pride and you know her struggle and you know her joy. You know why he bought the pants he’ll never wear. Nothing needs to be explained. It’s all there, all of it, in those few words and that photograph.
At the market in Sapa,
In northern Vietnam.
A woman who sold me stuff
I’ll never wear.
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, greg fallis and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
