Smoky Traces

Nag champa incense burning
Words of poems churning
In his head
As traces of her memory
Land on his lips
And fill his every sense
With sweat

Parietal lobes on fire
Olfactory bulbs awake
As traces of her memory
Wash through every pore and cell

Sounds of alarm clock ringing
To sheets a soaked in sweat
And another day
With only smoky traces of
Her memory.

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, November, 2016

2 thoughts on “Smoky Traces”

  1. I like the mix of language and approach in this one; there’s a biological aspect which is underpinned by the more raw human emotion which triggers the reactions inside the subject of the poem. Although this is a sad poem, it still has a lot of energy in the descriptions.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s