Smoke

faces appeared from the smoke one evening
as the blue of the afternoon hushed into black
and tellies babbled out through wide-open windows
to the cars standing sentry in the street

within the smoke a mouth is singing
a silent song that splits the air
no evening is truly still, no afternoon only blue
smoke sings silently the same song:
the living, the unborn, the undead... in unison.

Reviews

[Casey Truax]

It is evocative of going out in that bewitching time of day when the windows give glimpses into the lives of others. Rather mysterious but I feel it ought to be. The seventh line is my favorite.