CAVENDISH

by Julie Dickson

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

 

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