What a sad, powerful image... a child who doesn't understand smoking, drinking, just associates them with her father, and celebrates them as being something wonderful and magical. The innocence of childhood manifest defiantly against the brutality of fact. I'm glad that at least some of us can remember how wonderful it was not to know.
You and your wonderful poetry, Karen... what ever shall we do.
See you in an anthology in the distant future.
Faith is a fine invention
When gentlemen can see
But microscopes are prudent
In an emergency.