With just a cigar, I am not alone.
I converse with smoke, atone for my day
in peace. The measured puffs set my tempo
and this is how I pray – with no other
than this nude beauty, Colorado brown,
quietly dying, her ash testament
to our time together and our pleasure.
There is no better friend than this cigar,
who listens well and is comfortable
with silence, just sitting there, her and I,
for a time, she helps me forget about
bills, arguments, politics, endless war.
And then she goes out so I look around,
wake from my reverie, and remember.