Through the Fog: Collection of Poetry

I Was Never Yours

The song bird shook out its wings

after looking back in the direction of the open cage

and with a chirp flew away.

The flower cut a few days ago

placed in its crystal vase wilted to black with grace

and petals crumbled off the stem riding away on the breeze.

The smoke slipped through fingers

as a hand swirled the fog

and the mist grew white and with a breath, vanished.