My mornings begin with smoke.
The tea leaks with a vaporous lather
And nebulous swirls grey has smote,
As tar dancers unfurl from my cigarette in mixed layers.

But by this ember’s embrace warmer my night grows.
To the side shadows curl and on the wall uncurl,
And for a moment one feels the fire burn away the smoke.
There’s a lingering of fingers and swirling flows
And as trembling sapphires unravel, a semblance glows.

There are remarks and reservations
And promises and expectations
To mingle in the cooling air of Autumn,
And hold things warmer till Summer is again.
The superfluous, frivolous, glorious things
All glitter in the beading sweat,
Yet are vapour in the morning.