Tag Archives: Cigarettes

It Curls and Swirls

Tendrils of cigarette smoke
swirl up to my bunk
curl in the air
it stunk

So I’d twirl the crank
open the tiny window
breathe fresh air
through the dusty
musty screen
it stunk

But not as bad
as Old Gold
bare butt smoke

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I missed the first Quadrille Monday of the year at dVerse Poets Pub because we were travelling and I didn’t have time. But I read the prompt and the idea of a short poem using the word “curl” has been swirling in my mind ever since. I decided I’d catch up with Open Link Night

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Filed under Family, Life, Poetry

Alive and Well

A puff wafts from the doorway of the old building
I scrunch up my nose at the scent, shake my head in disgust
or anger perhaps is a more accurate description of my feeling

I don’t smell it often in these days of indoor smoking bans
Mostly when walking downtown, past old buildings
on my way somewhere that will be smoke free

Today that scent reminds me of them, but it’s not the good memories
It’s the memory of what killed them, their obsession with Old Gold
bare-butt cigarettes, in the house, the car, the trailer out camping

I prefer the scent of eucalyptus and fresh garden dill
that remind me of better days when they were alive and well
at least as well as two chain-smokers could be

That foul scent also reminds me of embarrassment
at being accused of smoking myself by a 7th grade P.E. teacher
because the stench of their smoke was inescapable for me

I glance into the doorway at the young woman smoking
I want to scream at her, tell her how stupid she is
I want to ask her if she wants to die before her grandkids are born

But I don’t, I simply move on, away from the smell
and consciously shift my focus to memories of better days
when they were still alive and well

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The first prompt of the year at dVerse Poets Pub is to write about a scent or scents that evoke memories. This is the first thing that came to mind yesterday. I tried to come up with something else because I didn’t want my first post of the year to be such a downer. But alas, sometimes we simply must write down what’s already written in the mind.

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Filed under Family, Life, Poetry