The Woman Reflected: Vivian Maier

Vivian Maier, Photographer (1926 -2009)

Inhabiting the attic and the world
was the road you walked
during your lunch hour. You had your hat on
and a coat and from your neck they dangled:
Two cameras. Your eyes lingering on reflections –

what were you thinking?

Boxes found – a lifetime bound in cardboard and gelatin:
Suitcases, three pairs of shoes to walk with;
and the letters, back and forth.
From these images I figured a woman
who found her place in the world by looking at it –

and how many of us take the time? No, really?

Glass windows let you in and you are, ironically,
juxtaposed with the objects laid out for sale, Vivian.
You walked them by: The vases, the laundrette,
the jewelery, and other women, looking through
the glass — you saw them and what they wished.

By keeping it to yourself you haven’t denied
anyone anything.

You have saved what you saw,
not selling what you looked at so well.
And as if by chance it was found –
by those who never knew you, and dared breaking
into the pyramid that domed your riddles

of a life well spent
and what was found is you, and the world.

 - Luciana Francis, London February 2014.