Fleeting Emotions

A stranger exhales, a smoke ring takes flight,

spirals of wonder float off into night.

I grasp at the tendrils, they swirl and then part,

like my own best intentions that fall, come apart.

The moon lingers shyly behind smoky trails,

a reminder that freedom sometimes unveils

a tethered existence, just out of reach—

a lesson in longing, that smoke cannot teach.