Secondhand Smoke
Swirling smoke and tobacco cheeks;
leave no glass on the patio. Plastic
water bottle filled to the gills with butts.
children don’t care -
off
in their own world. generation gap
is apparent as one grows
old. Young
will carry on. What will the world
be?
I breathe, I sigh, I hold my breath;
eventually,
I inhale secondhand smoke, and try
to reach, teach, inspire
these kids, but I can’t reach them, so I
pray.
The laughs, the jokes, loud rock, the moods
of one generation down; one
to go.
Perhaps, I’ll linger for a while; follow
grand pals, see where life leads them.
Certainly
strange on this side of life. Dear dad
doesn’t care
anymore; I can see that.
Paddling
the ball; pingpong
for all.
It is where we meet in the middle,
on
the center line - dividing net.
Sidenote:
pool is a free for all. splash.
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