Rain falls but doesn't moisten him.
He sees black-clad people gathered.
Flowers are thrown into a hole.
The holy man's words fall on deaf ears.
Blocks of stone silently watch.
Only days before, all was well.
Life was good and full.
He closed his eyes and then,
Found himself spirited away in sleep.
The woman cried, cradling him.
An unresponsive block of ice lain there.
He feels nothing physical,
But all things emotional.
All he is now but a mist with feelings,
Or a cold air that steals breath,
Or a memory that is bittersweet.
God calls him but he doesn't answer.
No one sees or talks to him,
Yet he sees all and yearns to speak.
The woman feels a familiar touch.
Tears come to her and feelings escalate.
She turns around and sees him.
Their hearts touch once more.
She forgets in her bewilderment and,
Her embraces catch nothing.
Unhappiness prevails.
The wisps of a man is all that is left.
Products of two worlds are always,
Close but always so far.

Lauren Kapusta

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wisps-of-a-man/