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)
wow........i loved this one...........hats off! ! i will be back to read more....there is so much iam like a child excited at finding a treasure! !
Nicely done. It flows very well and 'but leaves, like words you can’t pronounce' was a solid line. Ten out of ten on this one! -Michael
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A thought provoking write, I like the first two lines; What’s absent in the picture counts as much as what is present and portrayed. best regards, jdh