Through a Pinhole Darkly

by Leslie Anne Mcilroy

We view Okinawa ─ boulders, wave,
motion. This happened here, this way,
that. Light and shadows that prevail.
The photographer revealing to me
exposures not on exhibit─ Thanksgivings
alone, babies unwelcome on his lap,
friends dead from AIDS. Or louder shots─
beatings by a brother, gun-blast outside
a gay bar, the back-pack, bomb intact,
yells of fag. I begin to understand camera
hours spent to shoot past stops,
each keyhole into dark locked rooms.



Fran Markover lives in Ithaca, NY where she works as psychotherapist. Her poems have been published in journals including RATTLE, Calyx, Cider Press Review, Sow's Ear Poetry Review, Karamu, Earth's Daughters, and Runes. My first chapbook History's Trail was recently published by Finishing Line Press. Awards include a Pushcart nomination and a Constance Saltonstall Foundation for the Arts poetry residency.