Comments about Tim Caton
She Came To Capture His Glory
Her tall figure graced the skyline
Of the ridge, slender in its fine
Afrikaans heritage, her head held downwards
Against the force of the wind, pushing forwards
Unable to unbend, her face taut, transfixed by the wind.
The rocky cliffs above St Nons bay, exhilerated her
Flinging her words away, across the angry water
Her empty mouth working silently, her hands clasping
The camera to her eye gently, sucking in her breath then gasping
Filling her lungs ravenously, filling the lens covetously.
Seagulls screeched and wheeled, the sainted well wept