(For National Poetry Month I am writing a stream-of-conscious poem per day. Each poem is  a spontaneous poem single edit – could get messy!  Here is Poem #7.)

birch burning
smoke curling
into brown bats
circling overhead
you laughing
so loud it echoed
off the lake
up into the stars
dropping wishes
like fireflies
flickering
with possibility
until I tried
to kiss you
and you turned
away like
curling smoke.