30 Jan Back 40: Tobacco Roots

I help my father
Quicken a pinewood blaze
Against the falling night.

The kerosine stove exhales
With its hot oily breath
And mingles
With the woodsmoke
And two days
Of stale sweat.

Lake water boils,
Setting the pot lid
chattering. Water
For splintered ramen,
Instant coffee,
And hot chocolate
From a crumpled
Paper packet.

Sitting on stern stones,
I carefully nurse
My tin cup
While my father
Reads aloud.

Our only company
Is the kind fire —
One drop of warm light
In an ocean of darkness.

When did mortal luxury
Win the war on human joy?

Daniel Z. McKenzie is a senior college student born and raised in Bozeman, Montana. When he’s not out sleeping in the back of his Subaru or climbing a mountain, McKenzie can be found studying long-dead languages while enjoying his expansive tea collection.