Ash

I knew the end was near,
But arrogance clouded my fear
The cigar ash fell
Straight into the dell
Of my dressing gown sleeve.

I retrieve the ash,
Crumbled and spent,
A husk of past richness.

In years to come I will have
An attentive daughter, a reborn mum
- or a paid nurse to carry me through
the old age curse,
from cradle to hearse.

Then I will be scattered
- relief from life, so shattered -
Like an ashtray, discarded.