on capturing ephemerality

on capturing ephemerality

cities made of words evaporate like puddles in the sun

i rush, fumbling now, to write their echoes down:

edifices to a crumbling Babel

losing bits of themselves in transcription 

these always sound better in my head

as if the act

                    (the infraction) 

                                               of assigning diction to thought

loses meaning somewhere between my mind and the pen

nothing can compare with what has been conceived before 

these ideas, like maple leaves caught in an autumn breeze

faded to sepia upon the pavement's caress

a pale imitation plastered on damp cobble—

their fire extinguished in the act of striving for new horizons

to grasp the world

                                (the word)

                                                  is an unobtainable task

next time i'll move faster; pluck a leaf from the air

better to preserve what i can than to capture the whole