Smoke

tonight I am driving

through a memory of rain

and stale cigarette smoke 
in the bar where your words crumbled
to ashes in the drink I never finished

this old restlessness still tracking me

(the highway falling behind
rhythmic, endless

a decision already made) even now

after all these years without you

and my memory is this: you

standing in the rain at my door

damp, unshaven; and I, leaning out for a kiss

knowing all too well the bittersweet taste
of old smoke and promises

KB © 5/22/2013