Smoke, Part 1

i breathe in the smoke

of the twenty dollar

cigar,

and taste its hints

of cinnamon

i blow out

the curls of grey

and watch them

twist their way

toward heaven

and I’m reminded

of the incense

of my youth,

which a priest used

to bless the altar

of the Body and Blood

and of the smoke

that rose

from a burning building

as a man

turned black as flame

twisted in the dirt

like cigar smoke

i tap my cigar

and let the ash fall