Sorry. This is more than a quick read. What is broken?

My first thought was the Abbey Road cover photo, but the photographer was Iain Macmillan.  Am I lost or on the trail?

Okay, this will be shorter, then I hit Send. 
S 1 :   I guess there is a camera lens on a ladder at an intersection.  Set to go off in 10 minutes.  A bobby-held traffic would be a policeman in England?   Maybe a photographer has set to take a picture of someone important?  Waiting - 4 times.  Everything, even a camera, is waiting.  Unusual photo shot.  Hmmm. 
S 2:  Shutter clicks and it's perfect!   Like a fine poem that you write.  Pulitzer variety:  others imitate it.  Well-known, well laid out and goes into heart and soul. 
S 3 :  Photo is known for its quirkiness, identifiable.   Like e.e.cummings poetry, I suppose.  I always thought it was weird and quirky until a teacher taught me it was different and masterfully done.  : )   W.C.Williams and the Red Wheelbarrow.  I had the same reaction many years ago.  Maxwell:  I do not know a photographer by that name, but you must.  What a fine compliment to him.  He photos outside the box?   And it is recognizable.  Mary Oliver is that way too, I suppose.  I stumbled over nor author. . . . I'd just say:  no title, no author. 
I am guessing at Crossing Over title.   Not really clear to me whether it's about the subject, the photographer.  Because I know you write on different levels, I also wonder if it is about going to heaven where everything will be super wonderful to us, I just don't know. 
I certainly hope you will tell us what you were thinking on this title after everyone has played with it.  : )

Todd,  "England swings like a penduleum do"  or so the song goes.  I can't say much about the subject here.  I am not with you unless this is a vacation to "merry old..." I do like the picture of piano-like intersection.  That is great imagination. Because of what you said about the poem, I am going to add what I was going to use for my poem this month. I love your far reaching thought about that poem we read and wish we had written it.  I come across those all too often.  Maybe after you enlighten us can we help.

The Work of Words

A frail verse of poetry
shyly written, humbly presented
becomes a martyr for centuries,
repeated for generations.
 
A strong verse
grabs the mind,
boldly builds hope,
forms a community,
establishes a nation.
 
A great verse is a fulcrum,
pivot point planted
within hearts,
moves the universe
for centuries.

I really like the journey of your poem.  It was unexpected.  Thanks

Okay you two, break it up.  Dennis ... "a martyr for centuries."   Good one.  I like the beginning of the 3 stanzas - frail, strong, great.

Todd, if you don't give us the lowdown on the hoedown on "Crossing Over" by Sunday night, I'm crossing over the Missouri line to get the answer.  This poem is worrying me to death.  I want the backstory too.

The "Maxwell" kept throwing me.  I was barking in the right forest, but up the wrong tree.

Silver hammer?

Sure fooled me.
I had this heaven thing, too.
With the picture it all makes sense.
Maybe if you identified the four boys it would help the reader.
I like the tone, the feel of the poem except the time delay is an interruption.
Dewell