The Last Smoke

The Last Smoke by Edmund Siejka I miss cigarettes Gave them up forty years ago Holding one in my hand Wine glass nearby Made me look sophisticated Like someone Who knew the world. The best cigarette was after dinner Full stomach Chair pushed back Drinking coffee No one saying much Smoke billowing Toward the ceiling Vanishing in thin air. Then the cancer warnings came The price of cigarettes skyrocketed The wife complained Cigarettes stunk up the house And I had to admit Those used butts left in the ashtray Really did smell up the living room. I buried the old Zippo lighter in the dresser drawer Somewhere between the socks and my favorite T-shirts And gave up on a reliable friend. Maybe one day I’ll light up again When it’s my last day Weepy relatives outside my room It’s then I’ll have my last cigarette Staring out the window Thinking not all of my life was bad And in fact, some of it was quite funny. Putting out the last butt I’ll wait Satisfied, Even content, Knowing I had my last smoke.