Fleeting

a short, fleeting poem

I am art.
I am a poem.
How can I not be a poem when I walk on the wind so lightly?
How can I not be a poem when I speak so delicately?
I am an idea, a comfort
I fleetingly embrace your mind.
and leave without a trace.

Reviews

[FJ Davis]

Up until the last line, G, I believe you had something going. Should any decent poem ever leave the reader's mind "without a trace?" (There will be no physical trace, of course.)
The rest of what you wrote has a soft and gentle feel to it, and has promise.
That's what I think, anyway.

[dead man talking]

s**t