It Only Happens Once

The last poem arrived by morning and caused no reaction It entered by the door said "good morning" and sat comfortably on a soft chair announced "I am the last poem" and no one doubted no one answered no one stopped the work to read it or appreciate it It opened a book from Pessoa took a coffee with a lot of sugar smoked a cigar and kept waiting until it faded and become lost The last poem arrived not like death but the way some lives pass; with no one noticing. Patricia Evans