What I See

part 11

I hate the smell of red dust and aged clover in hot air

I miss the smell of clean grass and new leaves in shade

I hate the smell of heat lingering, exhaust poisoning, concrete baking

I miss the smell of the cold, of the winter wind, of the snow threatening to tumble to the earth

I miss the smell of a barn in winter,
A smell that can almost be found if you bury your nose in a cat's belly fur

I miss the smells the wind brought, leaning out of the bed of a truck down a gravel road

I miss the lilac blooms in spring and sweet peas in early summer

I can't help but compare the strength and frequency of the wind here to there

I can't help but try to remember the feel of the biting cold when I step into a freezer

I can't help but miss falling asleep to the creek gurgling and the wind pouring through the pine tops

I miss home

But my family, the one I've built of friends, is here

And I won't have them when I go