Evanescent

who likes to vanish and turn to air?

even moistures don't
they keep on clinging to leaves
like morning dews
but there is this evanescence
of all things
ugly or beautiful

fading feelings fleeting fainting
ecstacies and pains

after love, after love is gone
we all tend also to be imperceptible
scarcely words turn to syllables
commas and period
and then
nothing

who tries to hold my whisper?
your lips? oh they close after
a moment of a little kiss
an opening

who knows what menthol is? what camphor is?
do you still remember how
an old perfume on the side of your ears
smell?

white smoke rising to the ceiling from
a candle light that you have just blown off

you thought there was nothing
there was something and it is still lingering.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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