The Smoke

It had to have a source, right?
Everything comes from a source.
Every event starts somewhere,

Beginning from another
Event come from another
And another. We could see

The smoke uncurling through town
Like a ribbon, a banner,
A serpent, a lock of hair,

And we could see it break off
Like a lizard’s tricky tail,
Abrupt as that, disappear

Around one corner, unfurl
Again somewhere else. Spooky.
But we never found the source.