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” last appeared here in February 2019.
O at the Edges 
“the griefs we shape” gives me pause … so many people who seem angry at current events are, I think, expressing grief for a dream “gone up in smoke” … dissipated … beyond reach … no matter who wins whichever election, that dream we were taught growing up has left us lost in a new darker dawn, feeling as invisible as smoke from last night’s campfire, hope vanished above cold ashes …
[Perhaps not what stirred you to write this … ]
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Our griefs are varied and widespread, yet they come from true places and share similar traits.
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Excellent and well put.
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Thanks very much!
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Lovely. Love.
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I’m so pleased it resonated. Thank you.
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A wonderful word of wisdom Bob!
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Thanks very much, Dwight.
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Beautiful. The words evoked, or, I should say, conjured up some memories for me.
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Thanks very much. I’m so pleased they resonated for you.
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Your finale 4 lines are exquisite Robert….
“Forgotten stars, a withheld
kiss, words we never formed.
How difficult to be lost.
So easy to remain unseen.
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Thank you, Ivor. Sometimes the right person finds you, sees you.
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So much said, with so few words.
How difficult to be lost.
So easy to remain unseen.
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Thank you, Ali.
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