it begins as a wisp
neither taut nor explicit
a scribbled idea
on a plain yellow post-it,
sitting for weeks
til the stickiness faded
then moved ’round the table
it’s purpose degraded
and ultimately lands
in pile, curled – misled
like so many of my thoughts
of desire go unread.
Taps and Ratamacues
A site for poetry and other stuff
Taps and Ratamacues 
Wow! So very, very sad. And beautiful.
I agree with Mary. It’s a great poem, so visual and I love the way you concretize thoughts using the post-it metaphor.
Thanks to you both. I’ve been collecting thoughts as scraps for poems for a while. Sometimes they don’t surface again.
You’re welcome. I’m glad this one did! 🙂
Wow this is heart touching. Sad but beautifully said
Thanks for your comment Natali.