What Once Was

what once was floats in the breeze stuck like plastic in the mesquite it flutters and rattles but goes nowhere just waves at the wind that put it there morn and night it stays in place like the memory of your blank face do you go about your busy day thinking of all that got away escaped your clutches, ran and hid never to come about again all your fault for relaxing your grip names seep slowly from your lips all the claims that you are well yet your message is what tells that I creep across your mind once a day or all the time too late to play the fiddlers game it that, in fact, was your true aim