Sunday, October 10, 2010

Just some reflecting on a Sunday afternoon

There is a coke machine in the hallNot a fancy one , or brand newIn fact you could say it was an antiqueJust a big red box that once held cold drinks and soldThem for a dime,, now its job is to holdMy gloves and boggin’sOnce upon a time not so long ago it was also homeTo my cigarettes and lighter on the top they would sit Always on the ready to be grabbed and gone outsideFor a quick smoke.. or a pack full day. But If that pack was smoked I would surly buy a new one to fill its place on that old coke machine. To guard my gloves and mittens,,Tools of the trade for smoking out side in the winterNow its fall and the winter is drawing nearOn top of the coke machine still sits my glovesAnd boggins, but no more a home to a pack of cigarettesOr lighter, I now longer need them to hold my handAnd all this came about one night in beginning of last springA pack sat there with just one lone soldier to guard the winter garments. There was no back up pack or new sentry in the wingsJust a changing

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