Have you seen an impossibility?
They hide shyly in the mist,
And are only rarely found.
Lumps in the saddened silence,
As though it were a dream;
Lost without a memory.

Within the bubble of memory
All is held in silence.
Its gentle, caring mist
Now sits only in a dream.
In the quiet of impossibility
True longing can be found.

Some are lost; none is found
Within the bowels of memory,
Naught but a long-ago dream
Of a floating, gentle mist
Palpable with impossibility;
But nothing broke the silence.

In the disappointed silence
Drifted away the memory.
Its secret of impossibility
Was never to be found.
Sliding away went the tired dream
Borne on a lonely mist.

A gentle light shone in the mist:
Perhaps it came from a memory
Of golden impossibility.
Still, all that was heard was silence;
Nothing else was found
In the bowels of that dream.

Then rang out within the dream,
Smashing down the silence,
Breaking the borders of memory,
Was a sound out in the mist.
And at last! It had been found!
There glowed the impossibility.

Silent impossibility dreamed
A memory;
Found in the mist.

Hillary Kwiatkowski is a young woman who enjoys writing within the confines of strict poetry forms. She lives in Warrenton where she works and attends community college.

Illustration by Paul Hostetler