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Waiting in the kitchen

David Van Bebber Jr.

He rest the weathered deck on the table
And his stiff aged hand rises from the cards
bringing a Cigarette to rest comfortably between his lips.

Gradually, he pulls the smoke deep into his lungs
as if every ounce were necessary for sustaining life.

The priceless smoke bellows out.
“One more drag”
as the ashes near his fingers.

He embraces the fleeting pleasure
repeating what he’s done a million times.

With his thumb he snubs the slow burning tobacco.
Smoke has clouded the kitchen.

Leaning back he resumes the long task
the solitary game.

Another day alone again, waiting, dreaming

and remembering, what used to be.

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