Travelers Welcome

Travelers Welcome

Sunday, October 9, 2011

When I Smoke

by Anthony Ward

When I smoke
I feel like I’m home
No matter where I am.

The bus shelter is my home.
The park bench is my home.
The shop doorway is my home.

When I smoke
I am never alone.
It warms me with its company as I shiver in the street

When I’m walking through the night
Incessantly awake in the darkness.

When I smoke
I can watch the world go by
As if I’m no longer a part of it.

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