Scents

I breathe in the smell
Of clean laundry still
Being washed. Its scent
Reminding me of the

Good Old Days, when Grandma would
Cook dinner on Saturday afternoon
And let us sit on the bench

Outside. The elderly going for their
Daily stroll to keep limber
And young.

The machines whir,
Blacks and blues become a blur
Reminiscent of a bruise two days
After an incident.

Remembering that night
Makes me smile, the
Scent of you still on my sheets

And the feel of your lips on mine
Making the Earth move and my heart
Jump.