dVerse Quadrille #45

Up in Smoke

I remember him
suffering inside a cloud
of smoke in his chair.
Rocking.

He said he never found
his proper place in the world.
Claimed his cough was
an allergy.

He died later that year
amidst pipes, cigar boxes, papers
and a pitch-sticky
spittoon.

 

dVerse Quadrille #45 “Rock”

10 responses to “dVerse Quadrille #45”

  1. Good description. It is amazing the harm we can do to ourselves by what we allow to enter our bodies through our mouths.

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  2. Such a sad consequence of denial, all too common.

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  3. Oh, this is sad and the image of fading life in the rocking chair is very plausible.

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  4. Poignant write. We all make choices and then live or die with them.

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  5. I think he knew…. but saying out loud what that cough is can be hard.

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  6. A sad scene of self destruction….

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  7. I know this slow dying very well ~ Too bad he didn’t take better care of his health ~

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  8. A wonderful poem of denial against truth! Love the pitchy-sticky spittoon.
    Dwight

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  9. I shared your post on my facebook page.
    Dwight

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