His Tobacco Pouch

Submitted by: Chris Black

His Tobacco Pouch

I came by it purely by accident.

Fidgeting for I know not what

In an old chest of drawers

Really “Nothing changes that stays the same”

Opening it with gentle care.

His Tobacco Pouch, complete with crooked shank pipe

And necessary smoking accoutrements

Allowed the aroma of aged tobacco permeate the room.

Relics of times long past.

Allowing my fingers follow the contours

Of His Tobacco Pouch

For that instant I became my father.


© Chris Black 11/20



Chris Black is a native of county Laois who spent most of his adult life in Dublin before retiring and moving to Wexford. A member of Hollyfort Writers Gorey, he published his first book of poetry and short stories, Same Train, Different Track, in September 2016, has had his work published in Gorey writers anthologies and in the Red Books Wexford publication, Wexford Bohemian 2 second edition. Chris is currently working on a second book and you can read more of his wonderful poetry on his Instagram @wexfordpoet.