Burnt cinnamon and candle wax,
the surface of sandpaper and a tack,
a bitter hint of lemon peel
chased with a water back.
The tinkle of a shattered glass,
the supple strength of silk,
an echo of a footstep
and a hint of soured milk.
A new bouquet of flowers,
the barking of a hound,
cold shimmer of a moonbeam,
the scent of fresh-plowed ground.
17 APR 2014
© 2014, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.
