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.