Poetry | Stories | Photography
Heavy and deep
morning shadows.
Trees out of focus,
Crisp stillness remains.
From the window,
hidden under covers deep.
My secluded view is clear
as Winter moves outside.
The scent of something fruity;
Lingering for a moment,
then fading into the clearing.
The memory of the morning.
The scent of coffee
coffee cup meets frothy milk
Caressing my cup
Parchment paper lined wooden draws
the smell of vintage parcels hidden under our lingerie
Wooden smells mixed with the older smells
breathing in the scent of what we once were
Loving you with parchment paper lined wooden draws
parcels of scent and the smell of you close to me
You and I will be forever together in those draws
moving to our music
whispering kisses and parchment paper love scents
memories
the scent of what was
haunting my Spring days
Leaving me in the Winter
ghosts
what was and what was not
dancing with me in the misty mornings
sitting with me as I read about other ghosts
dreams
the smell of what was
black and white, sometimes colour
thinking about you
connected by a spiritual cord
the scent of flowers
far from each other
yet both smell the scent
connecting together
so far from each other
their vision fogs
both run for the door
a rendezvous
You were a whirlwind
of hair, scent and sorrow;
I cannot forget you.
We stand, sit and speak,
yet we walk through life
unnoticed and unscented.
When flesh and bone go,
stripped naked and bare,
you see our vintage souls.
We smell like Patchouli,
lavender, old spice, rum
and the soft sea breeze.
C & K 