Smoke Break
Nov 24 2023
They loiter
out in the cold
in unbuttoned overcoats
because it won't be long.
How to explain
the fellow feeling
of this odd collection of people
who only have in common
the dirty habit they share,
banished outdoors
to grab a smoke
and commiserate.
They day is grey
the wind bitter.
Grimy snow
surrounds the parking lot,
which is also grey
and filled with cars
no one's bothered to wash
in cold like this
with the roads such a mess.
They sip hot coffee
stomp their feet for warmth.
Trash-talk the boss,
dish some gossip,
watch the clock.
Feel a sense of belonging
after all this time together;
the familiar faces
and first names,
the vows to quit
and predictable fails.
Butts litter the walkway.
Soiled snow
has turned to slush
under salt-stained boots.
The tobacco smell lingers
long after they've returned
to their cramped office cubicles.
Where they work half-heartedly
along with those who stayed,
the clean-livers
and supercilious
who resent their absence
but keep it to themselves;
because they'd also like to take 5
whenever,
but have no excuse.
Who quietly envy
the smokers' privileged lives,
skipping out
on a crisp winter day
to share some laughs
and pass some time.
Who remind them of the big kids
back in school,
out at the practice field
under the bleachers
sneaking a butt
with their cool girlfriends.
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