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Smoker
by David Garnerabout every six weeks he cuts my hair
I smell the smoke on his fingertips
usually I don't like the odor
but as he combs, measures, snips
I feel relief in knowing one of his vices
it somehow mirrors or supports his objective:
to give me a good haircut
and he's always given me one
I rely on his smoky fingers
and when I smell them
I relax
it gives me comfort
his smoky fingers never let me down 01/23/2008 Posted on 01/23/2008
Copyright © 2025 David Garner
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 01/23/08 at 10:37 PM Fine conversion of scent and sense... the revamping of negative association. This is how these things happen... the associations that arbitrarily find themselves linked in our imaginations. Smokey smell with a good haircut. You will never forget it, and thanks to your finely crafted verse, we won't either! |
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