Lens error

Just before morning it seemed night
And birds in darkness and absence.
All the while there is truth, unreality
And rain and sun behind clouds
Exquisite in the camera and fatal
Failure to retract just when needed.
It is lens error, just like my life
Which I had chanced upon in error
On the bleak shores of fetal nothing.
In the morning coolness errors retract
The sun warms up errors manifold
Their hot vacuum goes up in clouds
Poet Neruda reminds his own errors
It was poetry in error, celebrated
Quietly in rain and fog, unknown
To verbose literary critics, loudly
Celebrating their manifold errors-
Our friends know who feed us daily
Social networking inanities and buzz.
Here somebody’s lens is not retracting
And stays hung in blinding mist.
To correct he must restart all over;
The mechanic is away on holiday.
Our pictures remain in our minds
Our river valleys and ancient stupas
Stay in deep gorges and brown history.