Against the glare of afternoon light,
I see the smoke dancing against its glee,
whirling and curling,
into myriad facades,
sometimes closed circles and firing dragons,
or Cinderella flying on her wagon.
that freedom itself,
looks amazed of its existence.
They prance around with no bothers,
going up, and up and upwards
spreading the fragrance of them character,
only to get vanished and look invisible,
lost in the infinite a,
evermore fabrics of nature.