A Scent of the Past

A Memory

The smell of rain on fresh grown grass.

The memory which coalesced as the light of a candle freshly lit,

slowly invaded my mind. It was not so much as the memory, as it

was, the smell. 

Lost in some ephemeral place and time was the memory, yet the 

smell told me I was safe. I had been here before and I am at peace 

with all that I survey. 

The world stops, yet continues on as if nothing happened, however 

my mind races to identify the reason for my mental Query. 

What and why is that reason for which my mind races; causing 

me to pause in my normal routine? 

The breeze carries a fresh aroma of rain soaked leaves

and freshly clipped hedgerows. I am keenly aware of newly 

toiled garden soil. 

The moisture in the air collects in heavy droplets on everything. 

There is a sweet fragrance in the air. I know that smell from 

long ago. Where and when does this smell come from? I can't 

remember. Perhaps it lies in my past. 

Was it a tree I played in as a child? Was it the forest I walked 

through in my youth? Was it the pond I went fishing in with grandpa?

No, but I think I know what it is that has given me pause.

                           It was the first time I noticed her, 

                                            my first love,

                                     on our way to school.

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David Niewoehner
David Niewoehner

Published Poet, Creative Writer, Story Teller. I am a Disabled Veteran Who has some time to be a little creative and help my family all at the same time. Love to use my imagination and maybe help others do the same.


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A Scent of the Past
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