Capacitance
The camera blinked, remembering only
her hands, an outlier in the dataset.
He reconstructed her from shreds
that fell like snow from the blackened sky,
faded colour blooming through the static,
but it was her touch travelling through time
that sparkled, that phased an image,
an electric spell in a bottle that washed up on
the beach decades later, the old man
dazed from looking straight into the sun
but still staring, the warmth on his face
telling him which way to turn.
William Ross is a Canadian writer and visual artist living in Toronto. His poems have appeared in Rattle, The New Quarterly, The Write Launch, Heavy Feather Review, Bicoastal Review, The Hooghly Review, Amethyst Review, Bindweed Magazine Anthology, Anti-Heroin Chic, and others.
