For my Ol' Man.

So long had I,
Associated that,
With the scent of you.
Back in those innocent days,
When that smell-
Would symbolize your proximity.
Each night at nine,
Would run to greet you-
To embrace that smell-
That drew me to you.
Heralded your resonance-
In me.
Acceptance without questioning-
Was the inevitable part in me-
Unconditionally.
My 'id' would drive my need.
As I hunted all over-
For the smell of you,
In your absence.
As wisdom came with age,
And I knew the source of it-
I had never stopped you-
As the sadistic part in me-
Would continue its search-
Repulsively-Compulsively.
Not intoxication-
Not even an addiction-with its serrated edge.
Its just  my re-connection  with my roots.
As I stayed away-
Strayed farther-
I would still be reliving the smell,
That would often linger on your fingertips-
When you chose to be close to me.
Its all etched in my mind-
A picture of the past-
Kept away callously-
In that ash-tray.
The smoke's the ghost that keeps you close.
An efficacy of the effigy-
That-though tainted- refuses to be sordid.
I smell it all about me now-
As I stir the ashes myself-
This time.
While the thoughts continue,
To haunt with its taunt.