.....my favourite memory is how you smelt;
because it was how the land smelt,
the first dewfall,
rains promised three days before they came,
and the dust, when they did come, as it settled and you
would enter the room bringing into it leather and sweet sweat, saddle-sore sun-warmed and fire-smoked skin and everyone had missed you.
you would fill the room with sunshine,
burst its seams with a quality of brightness
that you could not contain -
where hardly even aware of.
you smelt of horse sweat and chaff,
of saddlesoap,
you smelt mostly
like dew.
Author notes
dedicated to my father
enjoy
Comments
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This is incredibly descriptive. I don't know so much about it being poetic, though.
I did enjoy reading it, and it's a beautiful dedication to your father. Thanks for taking the time to enter! -
Febreeze anyone?
Glade? Those smells of fatherhood stay with you for a lifetime! You capture the "essence" of you father well here...I could smell him! Visit my original music at www.nakedadam.net
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