Modern Romanticism

Remedying hesitation
with rising smoke
for nostrils,
those that barely
ever breathed.

While we
dwelled on safety
within limits,
we weren’t drinking
a forgotten truth.

There’s no warmth
from seeing what falls,
from up close.

There’s brisk air
to take in,
when the earth quakes.

From embers
that liquify
a current tragedy.
From faces
we once knew
to ease our despair.

There’s a lesson
to build with,
once we inhale
a memory
to be kept near,
until our world glows
without its sun.