A Man At peace – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: cdn.hiconsumption.com.

“The believing we do something when we do nothing is the first illusion of tobacco.” Ralph Waldo Emerson

A Man At Peace

I remember the smell of cherry wood
his gentle rhythmic breathing, his lips
puckered, sucking in air as the furnace 
ignited slowly, causing a metronomic 
popping sound; he wheezed, the pipe
being too narrow, always demanding 
more, the damp flakes carefully
unwrapped, teased to strands, tamped 
down by yellowed fingers, curled and 
coiled, waiting for the high note of the 
match strike, and momentarily his face
disappeared  in a haze of smoke, the ash 
collecting upon him as dandruff, he 
carried the look of a man at peace with 
the world.

Copyright 2021 ©Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®


Filed under awareness, Free Verse, life, poem, quote

25 responses to “A Man At peace – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

  1. How it is and whatever it is!
    It’s a ( bitter ) Truth!

    Liked by 3 people

  2. My dad was a pipe-smoker, too.

    Liked by 3 people

  3. love the descriptiveness you used in this poem Paul!💖

    Liked by 3 people

  4. Sounds like a lovely memory.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Oh, dearie me. Good poem, but it triggered my memory of my pipe smoking days, sir. Gawd, at peace with the world, a good fill, sat on the river bank… Oh, dear! Hahaha!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Amy

    Beautifully described. Thank you for sharing your memory, Paul.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. I am guilty, but i love smoking. 😉 xx Michael


  8. Beautifully written ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Oh, how I miss my pipe and Erinmore Mixture, Paul. Sob!


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