What is the Scent of a Poem?


You close your eyes, quietly seated

facing the open window.


A breeze carries earthy vapor.

You whiff a musky draft


until wind shifts—pungent floral,

wafts into your passages. It disperses and


a warm gust carries rancid fumes,

bellows in the nasal cavity,

and diffuses quickly.


The room smells stuffy


until the AC blows


citrus aromas into tart salivation


because, each poem breathes a scent,


which swiftly exhales stale aromas or


you savor its mystical fragrance


as you close the poem’s door.