Monday, September 28, 2009

Cigarettes and Coffee

This place remains empty
I am its only friend
I shift among the stillness
Careful to not wake the silence.

Shh, don’t stop
This sea of calm

The rigid cold air is taken by sunlight
When it looks from the east
It rides on warmth
It feeds on the dark

Look now
It paints itself

My eyes are inevitably drifting back
To where they have longed to be
All morning
The steam swirls up from my coffee

Like smoke
From a chimney

My grandfather, with his cigarette, sat on the front porch
The light from his stained glass windows
Would splash rainbows on the floor
And he raised his carpenter hand to his mouth

Delicate wisps of smoke
Danced in the early light

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