He rolled his tobacco with one hand. He used to try to teach me do the
same when I was little. He worked for the railroad his entire life and told me he thought it was a blessing. He had a big smile and a bigger laugh. I visited grandpa and lit his cigarette for him two days before he let go of life.
i was wondering
if grandpa was smoking unfiltered pall malls
up in heaven
and if only the pleasure of puffing existed
for chain smoking angels
left unfettered by consequences
i was just wondering if grandpa
was sitting in an open box car on a slow rolling train
crossing the clouds
taking in a long deep drag
then flashing his toothy grin
and i wondered if maybe
he could blow the smoke
down this way
toward me
let it circle round my head
and sleep in lingering billows beneath my nose
