Red's Wrap
Happiness. It's relative.
Stogie
Across the room
My husband lights a cigar
He asks first, a reflex
Won’t the smoke bother me
My answer always the same
No, go ahead, I say
He waves away the smoke
Apologetic, grateful for my indulgence
The smoke takes me back
The announcer calling the play
My father’s halo floating above his chair
All is right, whistles blowing, tackles made
Later the smoke hangs
Draped on the flowers in the vase
Used, the fresh air spent and gone
I yearn for the window to be open
3 Comments on “Stogie”
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I once quit smoking for a year and a half. It was cigars and how perfectly they go with whiskey that lured me back. As divine as they taste while I’m smoking one, the smell after is horrible.
How loving of you to allow your husband to enjoy the indulgence of it.
I know you can’t like it.