The moisture seeping through the icy glass cools your palm.
The golden rays of the setting sun had you peaking through your weary eyes.
Gazing out onto the desert horizon with a far-away look in your eyes
Letting your body melt in to the wooden chair, hanging you limps low
Leaving all the hustle and bustles all behind you now
Gently inhaled from the cigarette between your fingers, you let out a puff of smoke
It rises slowly in to the warm air, shimmering among the golden rays
From a white circle it began to transform by the encouraging breeze
It danced, shifted, moved and teased like the sultry lady by the silver pole
So delicately it moved in slow motion,
Gliding through the thin air leaving strands of white lines each time
Holding your breath so that you won’t blow it away
Restraining your eye lids from blinking so you wouldn’t miss it
Captivated, mesmerized, and mellowed as you watch the last strand fading….
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem