the cigar box

the cigar box

I keep my love
in a hand crafted 'premium' cigar box
I forget to dust it frequently
but every now and then I come across it
while looking for something else

Swirls of dust rise like long leafs lit
blowing across its plane of humidity
'Ashton' ambers swirl in my mind
causing a lump in my throat
choking tears

I'll take it down from the top shelf in my life
dust it off and open it, exposing its contents
the memories of the things I have loved
like the smell of a 'White Montecristo'
flowers that bloom for awhile then they are gone
they serve now as crushed out and pressed flowers
in the pages of my life
I keep my love in a hand crafted 'premium' cigar box

Your exhales saved on a tape and faded photos
a ring expressing the cycle of our life
'Medal of Honor', dog tags, strop, ribbons
and an old handkerchief from 'Temple Hall'
a 'Bolivar' sea shell, guillotine and a 'Cuban bullet'
a 'Honduras Rose' wrapped in a 'Macanudo' smile
scented Garter belt wrapped around an old love letter
and a poem you wrote to me.

A torch still lights the fires of memory lane
I keep my love on the top shelf of my life
safely tucked away next to 'Nat Sherman'
engulfed in Spanish cedar slivers
'Tubos' so that the Dancing 'Diablos'
do not taint the 'Angels'

Lost in the vortex of a 'Helix'
thinking about 'Romeo and Julieta'
our lives were the same,
igniting our desires with fires

Life has given me a 'Punch' or two
re-memorabilia of when I was 'Champion' once
'Church hill' and 'Roth-child' rings interlocked
"Always smoke naked when in europe"
I was always over 'Bering' in 'Trinidad'
Ah, the memories the box brings
sitting in Autumn, smoking on spring

Playing with the miasma memory trails
while flicking the ashes off my life
You wanted a 'Metropolitan' 'Banker' Man
but settled for a 'Back Woods' country boy
I asked if you felt your life was complete
as you closed your eyes forever, you told me
"A Match only burns so long,
some of us are the matches that bring candles to life."
I still have the book
only you didn't know it was a bonfire you lit
you're 'White Owl' wisdom still burns

I feel my heart when I hold the box
a life time ago comes a flooding back-draft
the flavor of harshness comes in the ending
holding on to that last heated draw
as if it were the last

I remember what love is now and again
when I come across the box that holds my love
a hand crafted 'premium' cigar box
on the top shelf in my life