A Poem from the Pool-side

(untitled)

cigarette stubs twisted, broken
       all purpose burned away
       lying in a box of sand
                on display
             eight and twenty
          scalded and worn
          kissed a dozen times
                         before being cast aside
          every kiss drawing more away
                         dragging out
                the breath of life
                      until
                      exhausted
                one lies dead and half-buried

–dd

A note on the poem: Sitting out by the community waters in a chaise lounge, I noticed beside me a small sand-box within which many old cigarettes lay mangled, broken, and abused.  I began versing my observations of them, these victims of addiction, then came across the idea of their being kissed to death partway through the verse and concluded with that thought.  There is more in this: I realised that as I am now 28 years old, perhaps I had written about myself and not that number of spent cigarettes, perhaps my heart through kisses is now spent, half-buried, both dead and alive…or perhaps this is not truly me, but is someone reading this.  God, teach our hearts to love.