I step outside
Putting grass-mowing shoes on
The requisite beer alongside

 
The sharp “aroma” of lighter fluid
Sparks in me another fierce nostalgia
Papaw with his 35-year Zippo “gift”

Lighting another Marlboro

After servicing the reminder of his service
Hand-held tamer of an essential element
 
He dips the cotton in the fluid
He wipes up the excess
He joins the pieces, fires up, and asks:

Jaybird, what do you want to do today?

I think we went fishing
Crappie? Bluegill? 
I forget; I puked over some Beech-Nut chaw;
He angled and I shivered greenly in the truck
He’ll catch old-holy-Hell from mom
But I asked for it–
I wanted to be big like him

lighter in exchange for 35 years in a sooty hole

I yank the pull-cord and the machine roars