A Wisp Of Smoke Poem by Sandra Fowler
A Wisp Of Smoke
The moon falls March white on old sycamores,
As good-bye as the glitter of a tear.
Warmth is a word too fragile to be said,
Love fey blue as a wisp of winter smoke.
The glamor is almost intangible,
Vision a whisper of its former self.
You clasp my hand to still the fleeting mood.
I promise you I will not close my eyes.
Copyright,2009, Sandra Fowler
Lovely word play, I see a goodbye with a promise of whats to come. beautiful poetry as usual. Bob xx
'The moon falls March white on old sycamores' Brilliant words. I love this, Sandra
what a powerful poem......i just can't imagine the glitter of a tear!
Imagery at it's finest! ! Wonderfully brilliant.. constructive critism? ? I have none.. Write on! My 10 Wendy
S, you are a poetic genius. I don't know why, but this brings tears to my eyes. Really so. And in the 'I don't know why' lies your genius, I guess. t x
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/27/2024 7:31:09 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Most beautiful, and fragile imagery, Sandra. 'As good-bye as the glitter of a tear' is a striking and inventive use of language, but the poem moves from strength to strength. The last two lines might bring the glitter of a tear, indeed. - Will