Day 311 – Dad’s Butts


Dad's Butts

Day 311

Sonnets 04: Only Until This Cigarette Is Ended by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Only until this cigarette is ended,
A little moment at the end of all,
While on the floor the quiet ashes fall,
And in the firelight to a lance extended,
Bizarrely with the jazzing music blended,
The broken shadow dances on the wall,
I will permit my memory to recall
The vision of you, by all my dreams attended.
And then adieu,—farewell!—the dream is done.
Yours is a face of which I can’t forget
The color and the features, every one,
The words not ever, and the smiles not yet;
But in your day this moment is the sun
Upon a hill, after the sun has set.
•••
They sit quietly, unforgotten these four long years.  One last trace of Dad that we can’t let go.  To smell the tobacco on his breath once more, the smell of his cigarette smoke in the air; it would be Heavenly.
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10 thoughts on “Day 311 – Dad’s Butts

  1. Moving image and words, Cyndi. It brought tears to my eyes, partly because I lost my mother a little more than two years ago to lung cancer due to smoking.

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