The Fly

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I prefer my quicker shutter
When lumbering around downtown
Up town, and out of town

These nouns all move
So fast
So fancy, in the vast

I can be about
Without being found out
With my quicker shutter

Bellwether 

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This Day again 
And this place
Here I move happily up That Hill
At an easily difficult pace
On account of my heart
And all that it hopes and hoped

I close my eyes to make a wish
A steady shutter
A sturdy tripod 
On solid ground
A bellwether
Are all that comes to mind