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Click hereShe's from Winston-
Salem out of Wrightsville
propelled by the cough
of a million dead lungs
signed on as a lad
Zippo uniform
pack in rolled up sleeves
bad breath and attitude
forty years of puffin
boiler room atmosphere
crew becoming smaller
ports of call disappearing
jumped ship the other week
nervous and insecure
AWOL from a bad habit
withdrawal a lonely voyage
Bought by tobacco
sailed for greed and grief
gone but for her wake
ghost ship Golden Leaf
(YO! HO! HO! Quit two weeks ago.)
Good job, Spike! Wish I could quit! Wish I could write about it if I did! Thanks!
I quit last Thanksgiving and this expresses the feelings so well! It does get easier-hang in there!
on quitting and on the poem. A dancing rhythm here. Well done.
jim : )