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