Dark Refrains

Blue smoke twirls
Rise, expand and fade.
Though they are no longer visible
The room is under their hazy spell
And their scent remains
Like the taste of a lover’s kiss.
I am surrounded by their presence
As though they are ghosts
Of their dead bodies,
Silvery, transparent manes
That float on the air
And vanish with their substance less existence.

       © 23/6/01