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Scent
by Angela Nuzzo
ItÂ’s a Bradford thing, I guess.
Or maybe itÂ’s just me.
But the deep and musty odor of oil
is one of the best smells in the world.
It hangs heavy in the air –
as if walking through it
would leave a residue.
Rain may wash it away temporarily,
but it always comes back –
stronger than before,
more potent than ever.
If it was a perfume,
I could dab it behind my ears.
But I donÂ’t think IÂ’d need to.
After 34 years, enough of the aroma
has soaked into my skin
and my essence –
so that no matter where I go,
whatever the length of my stay here,
IÂ’ll carry this scent along with me.
10/08/2007 Posted on 10/08/2007
Copyright © 2023 Angela Nuzzo
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Dave Fitzgerald on 08/26/08 at 04:30 PM "It hangs heavy in the air –
as if walking through it
would leave a residue."
That is a great write. I haven't lived where I grew up for many years, but when I return for visits, it just has it's own scent. I really like this one Angela, it's going in my faves.
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