Tomato is the smell of my red
(and my hands).
From the vine
on the breath of the coon
who stole them from my patch of ground.
_
Dirt is the smell of my brown
(in the creases).
From the fields –
in the garden during spring
turned over by the plow that went that way.
_
Beans are the smell of my green
(the Roma kind).
Under the sun,
from the blooms to the lengths
I picked and popped and smelled my fingers.
_
Hay is the smell of my work
(and prayers).
On the ground in the heat of summer
dying;
then drying to feed the cows come winter.
_
Pine is the smell of my rest
(not often!).
By the fence
in the corner of the yard,
with the sway and sigh, the branches – they sing.
_
Horse is the smell of my joy
(and freedom).
In the pasture; on my hands;
the inseam of my jeans.
Cantering dreams across the fields of my heart.
_
Wide open space is the smell of my love
(and hope)
from my childhood
as a refuge in this time.
And I know, in this space,
I breathe
the summer smell.
YOUR TURN: Write of your favorite summer smell.
