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Replying to a comment on:
Pinhole (Free verse) by Dovina A small hole in the Venetian blind
casts a shadow on the table
of my finger about to press
another lazy key.
Silhouette in minute detail,
fingerprint defined as washboard,
Tiny hairs rendered as spider legs.
No ordinary, fuzzy shadow here,
as if the sun had lost its size.
A dot it is, confined beside me.
Constrained to a thin bright stream,
A narrow sunbeam, casting edges
of a finger in its path.
If only I could reduce the light,
squeeze the largeness of the orb,
and cast an image so precise
upon this cluttered screen.
I donât need a mass of sunny light
to reveal the thing and make it clear,
just a well placed pinhole
in a Venetian blind.
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