The Scent of Smoke

The Scent of Smoke

What is the essence?
Smoke drifting across
confused, grey landscapes,
hinting and nudging at answers,
but still translucently concealing.
The essence teases,
it hints...
at perfumes, at napalm,
at trees, at holidays,
at bodies.
Smoke, the scent of air,
links us just as much
as the earth beneath your feet.






Not that great, but just a little something I wrote. It could use more. Just don't know what.

Cool. I like it. I'm not exactly sure what it means, but then, its poetry.

Just a note, keep the number of people the same. At the very end it switches from us to you, while I think it would read better being "beneath our feet."

What is the smoke concealing? What are the perfumes of? With a bit more indication, here you would have an excellent poem.

I think this would be nice if the lines were longer, so that the meter would be determined and consistent.

I also think that, in the last sentence, it could be "Air, the scent of smoke . . ." rather than "Smoke, the scent of air . . ." considering you can't necessarily smell air.

This is a wonderful poem, and the last sentiment is so heartfelt and true. Please acknowledge that you reserve the right to completely disregard my previous statements.