One last cigarette
With my friend the moon
I tried to resist it
But the night called to me
Along with the sound of the Loon
The dark was too crisp and looked too cool
The sharpness of where the sky meets the earth
Tonight an empty canvas, no stars
Just me and my friend the moon
Many a conversations taken place
Just him and I
The rising of my smoke
His light, the sounds of the night
Comforting, temping and true
His content glow lights up the sky like day
He listens to all the things I have to say
My secrets are safe with him
In him I know I can confide
Blowing smoke rings in the dark
I'll miss these conversations
Knowing this will be the last where a cigarette can calm me and my friend the moon can enlighten me
Tonight I savor the last of my nicotine
And the string of words I build to the sky
Tonight I sit on my porch and wonder where I'll find another friend quite like my friend the moon
YOU ARE READING
Running Stitches
PoetryAn Anthology All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permis...
