Smoke Poem by Alana Ballantyne

The moon is new
And the air is cold
In this dazzle of
Freshly fallen snow

The gleam of the stars
Is somewhat dim
The glow of my cigar
Seems almost grim

Each breath I take
Stings my lunges
Both smoke and air
They feel as one.

A majestic solitude
Another of winters wonders
A prismatic scene
To ponder my blunder

Tip to my lip
Deeply inhale
A cruel mistress
How rude her assail

Choking on smoke
Gasping for air
Smoking itself
A definite err

Spit in disgust
Tap out the ember
Though it is
A taste to remember

Oughta quite
It's easy to say
Futile endeavor
I'll try anyway.