SMOKE RINGS

smoke rings hover between us

shrouding the pallor of your cheek.

a resigned sigh escapes me as

my eyes confront yours

and find razed spirits.

your hand trembles with regret

as you bring the cigarette to your lips

i watch you shuffle through photographs

keening ghosts of yourself.

ball meets wood in the background

it’s an infield double.

boxes of trifles piled high

in the middle of the room

ready for the moving truck

to empty your house.

i watch with aching remove

ancillary and obliging

wondering why i’m here

packing.

mere minutes now

and the door will close

behind me.

the screech of tape

secures the last

miscellany.

Reviews

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

I am not sure I don't feel like a ghost here as well...waiting ...watching. Things become clearer when the ball drops. Sometimes, it breaks my heart to see what comes of it...you move the reader with your words and structure....even when it's not crystal clear...it flows like being. I can smell the burn and the absence.