By Leah S. Abrams
Clove cigarettes
the scent of them
wafting on breath
of breeze
tasting like 
dreamy memory
pure delight of
small human
in its natural habitat
outdoors
the constants
the guaranteed smile
makes you
PAUSE
Breathe deep
Become aware of
the world
that is beyond
the world
In childhood
nothing so sweet as
smell of spring
fresh grass
warm cushion of it
idyllic sun-basked bed
And now
Here
May 2020
empty hillside
clover green
beckoning
as a lover
unmasked
as satisfying
air filling the senses
a gift from
the heavens themselves
and you
who does
follow
fathers’ advice to
stop! smell the roses
cannot fathom
how much more
glorious
could be
so forbidden
stealing
a thrill
beyond
imagining…


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