Creative Work


Richard Woodard

We love tangible things:
cars, gear, numerous possessions.
Other things exist;
but they occupy no space,
leave no paper trail.
No advertisements praise their value,
and no celebrity endorsements sing their praises.
They are as intangible as a memory,
more like an unexpected breeze on a hot day
and wedded to the wind.
We catch glimpses of the intangible:
a smile, a “thank you,” a door held, a kind word.
They kiss us lightly and are gone,
leaving only a warm spot,
a small flame soon crowded out.

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