That ember of cigarette
was my father’s until he
woke with cancer in his
lungs – a brief existence
seesawing between his
index & middle fingers –
& I don’t smoke or vape
[only booze] – no misty
drug to put me in fugs –
I’m unpolished enough
although I earn a living –
just – I’ll go ‘til my chest
gives up its final cough
of loner’s song [no duet
will be my shared song]
as me & my body retire