A Window Becomes A Pinhole Camera while an overambitious hibiscus unsuccessfully tries to eclipse the sun. A quivering. shivering
bar of light melts upon the
reminding us that it is as much
a rectangle creature, as a round one. And so, in the quietude of this accidental chapel, I then understand why it was once thought God too.
Priyanka Sacheti is a writer and poet based in Bangalore, India. She has lived in Oman, United Kingdom, and United States. She has been published in numerous publications with a special focus on art, gender, diaspora, and identity. Her literary work has appeared in The Brown Orient, Barren, Berfrois, The Lunchticket, and Jaggery Lit as well as various anthologies. She's currently working on a poetry collection. She explores the intersection of her writing and photography at Instagram: @anatlasofallthatisee. She tweets @priyankasacheti1.
About this poem
"The partial solar eclipse had occurred a few weeks before I wrote this poem and when I chanced upon the sight that inspired its writing, I immediately remembered the pinhole cameras used to see the eclipse and the shadows they had cast of the partially eclipsed sun."