I am a shred of mist
A tired leaf loosened by the breeze A silence between words
A pause between heart beats I am what once was
And never more will be
A wrinkle in the skin of time A forgotten melody
Does it matter to anyone
That I was born, had loved
And feared the dead whiteness Of the quiet sky, exulted
In the roar of waves on shells Or stringed garlands of words
That wilted before the end of day?