Gone
there is a kind of
silence
wreathed round my
thoughts of you
but when I stop to
wonder
I grasp at something
thin as smoke
and it is gone
an image in the mirror
a face that might be
yours
but when I turn to
find out
that something
fleeting disappears
and it is gone
a voice on busy
sidewalks
sings soft inside my
ears
but when I stop to
listen
there’s just the
murmuring of crowds
and it is gone
are you haunting me
from doorways
do you speak beneath
the noise
is there something
I’ve forgotten
I stop to think
and it is gone