“Epiphonema:  being an exclamation, a striking
                comment, or a succinct summary
                                        of what has been previously said” 
                                                       –      Dictionary.com

I was going to quit smoking today.

And then this, and then that, and then
there I was at the checkout, again,
asking for another
box of crush.

There was an excuse.
There is always
an excuse.

Breathe one in.
Breathe another.
It’s a chain reaction,

and the black night covering my deck
sweats itself down my back, with no
breeze to carry these white-night wisps                                                                                      
                                                                          away.

There has to be a way.  A way to leave
you.  In my past.  To not stop at the store
or see our memories lining my shelves.  To not
beg a closed sky or waxing moon for more.

             Whatever you are not changing, you are
             choosing.

I was going to quit smoking today, but tonight
my lungs are full of lavender and mint.  You

are as close as a breath—
as distant as the breeze

 that’s not blowing.