Aslama

I pause my morning smoke and meditation to retrieve a bright blue pool noodle almost out the left-open gate.  Bed it safely back in the orange toy bucket against the chilly Autumn wind. Pandora is playing a song that meant a lot to me at one point. Exhale yet again and this is the one. This is the time when I truly let go and watch the memories drift with the frozen cigarrete smoke until diluted enough to not seem to matter.