What does time mean
between a night and a cloud?
Where does space go in the middle of a kiss?
Where is absence when passion ends?
I walk in foggy autumn
cannot remember the place
I can’t
Though, there’s that perfume
scented by golden leaves about to
f
a
l
l
like bright yellow rain-sparkles in the dark
I walk on scented fog through autumn and absence
a golden kiss and a cloud
Where?
_____Adriana Citlali
XII-XI-MMXX
WOW. Quite a beautiful piece and I love the way you arranged the lines. Makes it seem magical and it draws attention to the words. Great writing. 🙂
Thank you, Lucy. Very pleased to read that you liked the arrangement. The visual expression of my poems is very important to me.
i love the questioning here, Adriana
Thank you!
Interesting formatting which elevates the energy of the piece.
A great poem… love the questions… Where does space go in the middle of a kiss?
Sometimes a question says more than a statement to me. Not that it fully resolve the matter but makes me think. 🙂
:>)
I love the use of space and layout in your poem, Adriana, which give the questions room to breathe and leave the reader time to ponder them, allow tentative answers to form. And then you saturate the reader’s senses with fog, perfume and colour. I love the simile ‘like bright yellow rain-sparkles in the dark’ and that your poem ends on a minor note with absence, a golden kiss and a cloud, which tie the poem up beautifully.
The space and layout are as important as the words to me. I’m so glad you enjoyed the reading experience of this poem. Your words make me happy. Thanks.
You’re welcome.
I love poems of questions. And a walk is just the right setting for them. (K)
I love these questions, and the ending is superb!
Beautifully composed and laid out on the page …..
Thank you!
Ohhh, I like this
I like this too.
Anna :o]
Woww!! This is incredibly deep and passionate 😀
This is really intriguing. I can almost smell it! Love that fog, reminds me of the mystery and magic of life
Thank you for your very kind words. I’m glad you highlighted the fog. It felt special while writing the poem.