Night Smoke


Night Smoke

Incomplete, it rises
only to dissipate

like the griefs we shape,
somehow unnoticed,

beyond reach but felt.
Last night’s moon, the glance.

Forgotten stars, a withheld
kiss, words we never formed.

How difficult to be lost.
So easy to remain unseen.

* * *

“Night Smoke” first appeared in November, 2014.


29 thoughts on “Night Smoke

  1. This poem perfectly describes the unnamed feelings I had one night, sitting in the corner of my New York apartment, on a sultry July night, smoking a cigarette while listening to Laurie Anderson’s “Tightrope” on my Discman… watching a casual friend sleeping on my couch. I knew we would just be friends but I wished she was my lover. Words I could never say, the smoke disappeared, like my courage to ask…

    Love and smoke, both lost in the burning…

    Liked by 3 people

  2. Painfully real and perfect. It also reminded me of my favourite portrait of a poet: Zbigniew Herbert against a black backdrop striking a match to light a cigarette. It also reminded me of a line from Bernardo Soares (Pessoa) about hurling a lit match into the abyss of night. Sorry for these irrelevant associations. The poem stands alone in its naked beauty. It will be one of my favourites of yours. You constantly challenge and inspire me to return to poetry. Thank you.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I read the line twice “how difficult to be lost”. Some feelings don’t have words, yet we somehow tend to describe them, only to explain its essence.

    Liked by 1 person

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