It’s just a whisper now,
a scent that flavours the air
when it rains.
No more echoes,
just a distant sound;
an old phrase
that catches on
in passing.
I greet the Jasmines
in the morning,
light of heart,
rid of the heavy thorns
of roses;
no deep red petals
to drown my senses.
I am free.
Free to take the Lily
on its dare,
if it finds me.
A Scent That Flavours the Air
July 5, 2021
Published by