When I bring down the humidor
The dog waits for me at the door
I tie him to the normal spot
I always use the bowline knot

I hear the sounds, I smell the air
This simple scene is often fair
The hawk comes by to say hello
Sometimes I sit and watch the snow

Or watch the sunset through the trees
Or feel the lovely, gentle breeze
Then from nearby, neighbors will shout
“Please put that smelly cigar out!”

The train goes by, I hear its horn
A plaintive sound that makes one mourn
I watch the cars, I watch the sky
Friends sometimes wave as they drive by

I watch what each new season brings
And when it’s still I blow smoke rings
I contemplate, my mind does roam
Sometimes I'll sit and write a poem