What’s absent in the picture counts
as much as what is present and portrayed.
Like unvoiced words we can’t pronounce,
its lasting after-image does not fade,
but lingers, echo of a murmur
whose source is so obscure you start to wonder,
“Does it belong to terra firma,
or heaven, like the lightning after thunder? ”
What’s missing may leave traces after
the fading image of the photograph
has disappeared, like sounds of laughter
recalled when we are sad though we can’t laugh.
(8/15/01,5/2/07)
gershon hepner
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/after-image/
