Sense of Scents

I smell rain on a hot slate sidewalk of summer
I smell pine needles on a cold Christmas morning

scents not in my nostrils but in my mind

popcorn at a Saturday cowboy matinee
perfume on a girl at the eighth grade dance
          and on women who perfumed for me
baby powder on my babies and their babies

and more
                        and more
                                                    and more

I smell the fragrance of the nurse's shampoo
as she leans over me to adjust my IV

I smell life

I smell death

(c)Frank Kozusko                   2010

from The Man in the Moon has no Testicles

Poetica Publishing Company, Norfolk, VA