Iowa Writes

JOANNE WEST
Cameras


I bend over to drink from my hand
At the restroom sink at work,
And I am in a hot, dusty little town
Somewhere in Missouri forty years ago,
Cupping my hand to drink
From a faucet in the park.
A partial eclipse
Has dimmed the sun.
You are there,
Hot and thirsty and young as I am.
The truck you drive is waiting in the shade.
A silver maple makes lace on the sidewalk,
Each tiny point of light a pinhole camera,
Repeating, repeating
A million eclipses.

About Iowa Writes

Since 2006, Iowa Writes has featured the work of Iowa-identified writers (whether they have Iowa roots or live here now) and work published by Iowa journals and publishers on The Daily Palette. Iowa Writes features poetry, fiction, or nonfiction twice a week on the Palette.

In November of 2008, the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) designated Iowa City, Iowa, the world's third City of Literature, making the community part of the UNESCO Creative Cities Network.

Iowa City has joined Edinburgh, Scotland and Melbourne, Australia as UNESCO Cities of Literature.

Find out more about submitting by contacting iowa-writes@uiowa.edu


JOANNE WEST

This poem originally appeared in Volume 5, Number 1 of 100 Words, a journal published by the University of Iowa's International Writing Program between 1993 and 1998. Each piece in the journal had to be 100 words or fewer, and each issue had a theme. This issue's theme was "On Memory."

This page was first displayed
on April 01, 2008

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