All those Christmas gifts...
What remains of them is
the slightly withered wrapping,
the memories.
Their meaning and worth
saved in sunset-yellow cases,
as scents.
The whiffs I captured
through an untrained nose
as a child,
and a trained Google searcher
as a grown-up,
are all neatly stacked.
With them,
I satiate, in futility,
a life-evolved taste for posterity.
And, as a golden sunset
reminds me of
a receding Christmas vibe,
I seek the scent this year.
For that whiff of longing.
Oh, and a desire for belonging.
-- Leslie
What remains of them is
the slightly withered wrapping,
the memories.
Their meaning and worth
saved in sunset-yellow cases,
as scents.
The whiffs I captured
through an untrained nose
as a child,
and a trained Google searcher
as a grown-up,
are all neatly stacked.
With them,
I satiate, in futility,
a life-evolved taste for posterity.
And, as a golden sunset
reminds me of
a receding Christmas vibe,
I seek the scent this year.
For that whiff of longing.
Oh, and a desire for belonging.
-- Leslie
