Cigarette Butt

He sits down there, holding a cigarette Looking up at the summer sky. He inhales the smoke inside his lang Then releases in an arm-long straight line. Sometimes he releases through his nostrils. Sometimes he exhales in small circles Floating on top of his head. He stares at the misty rings until they fade out, His sight traverses those circles to the blue sky. Over and over, he enjoys the rounds in layers The passersby can smell the cigarette, But they did not remark on his dreaming eyes. The cigarette becomes shorter and shorter Burns close to his fingers, he wakes up He put out the cigarette, throws the butt in a bin Ending his cigarette is ending his pleasure Throwing the joyful affair. The time contains man’s passion A common rule of life