My office used to overlook
the smoking area, the window
framing a view of inhaling
and puffing and low murmurs
of conversation, smoke rising
while it stained the space
around it, until the celebrants
were banished, chased away
to the property line. Now all
I see is an empty bench, with
no incense rising to heaven.
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And the poem is based upon a true story.
". . . an empty bench, with / no intense rising to heaven" are my favorite lines. I like how they connect back to your use of "celebrants".
ReplyDeleteAn empty scene or the rising smoke of those fying their lungs, hmm tough choice haha great write.
ReplyDeleteI bet their essence still lingers though.
ReplyDeleteBLessings.
ha incense comes in all kinds eh? smiles...interesting how the smoking huts are gone...some still bear the stains of their passing....bet that smelled wonderful too...ha...
ReplyDeleteAs an ex-smoker, I am somewhat ashamed of my hatred of those sordid smoking areas with their huddles of guilt-ridden outcasts. How hypocritical could I be?
ReplyDeleteI much prefer incense.
inhaling
ReplyDeletethe burning
smoke
of dry leaves
on the edge
of fresh air
banished
to the exhaling
of prayer
I love incense and hate smoke. Don't equate them !!
ReplyDeletesmile
I love the smell of a just lit cigarette on a frosty morning...and I've yet to kick the habit...my own remaining crutch...I will, because I should..But I thought this incredibly unique and wonderfully penned!
ReplyDeleteI find a wry sense of humour in this one.
ReplyDeleteWell done!
I look down on the smoking area. During winter, I call them "the huddled masses"
ReplyDeleteVery nice poem Glynn. You captured something so many office workers see and turned it into something almost sacred. Very good indeed.
ReplyDeleteAs unhealthy as it is/was (smoking) - there was a certain camaraderie between the participants which had a uniqueness which possibly doesn't have an equivalent now. The closer to the end; the stronger the connections tended to become. Your words reminded me of these huddles and evoked an element of reminiscence which was bittersweet.
ReplyDelete"an empty bench, with
ReplyDeleteno incense rising to heaven" that is such a different view of smoking... beautiful line.
I agree with Laura...definitely a different way to look at smoking! I like the lens on your vision of the world...I look forward to reading more of you.
ReplyDelete