Tendrils of smoke
crossed rays of sun,
shone through gauzy curtains
Grandfather’s two-toned brown pipe
was filled with tobacco,
Cavendish scent
My young nose abhorred cigarettes
but his intriguing two-toned brown pipe
emitting such a rich fragrance
drew me in
I moved close enough
to taste the aroma on my tongue
His eyes closed as he drew in;
I watched and then closed
my own eyes
Smoky Quartz 