Blown Smoke
by Michael Doyle

Blown smoke seen through a window
The feel of doubt, imprinted on her shadow
The detective watches the young widow
Looking for clues, he might recognize and know

He thinks back on days of reverie
That are no longer more than memory
Shivering in the dark the tries to keep out
Always present since learning what life is about

On and on, the night knows its secret moods
Sometimes contrite, others simply rude
Running like a stargazer reading for a sign
Still saddened to find the numbers are not divine

Too many children are lost within the system
Because those that should have loved have forgot them
Paganini's revenge burns across the silver strings
In these days that never know what tomorrow brings

Running back into the arms of yesterday's sorrow
All of those troubles the wise would never borrow
Life doesn't see all of the souls that feel empty
We're a ship of fools sailing onto the rocks of misery

(c) April 14, 2022  Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved