Something on the Wind

The sun nestles ‘mongst the variegated trees.

With the twilight chatter of the chickadee.

The greatest feature can’t be heard or seen.

A balm uncommon on the evening breeze.

Enfolded in such mist. Surrounding me,

my life, my soul, within my nose, I find.

This strong appeal to sense olfactory.

Like o’er ripened nuts or what geese leave behind.

There’s something on the wind this autumn eve.

Within the air entwined, and on the autumn leaves.

There’s something on the wind, my nose it grieves.

I wonder really, if they must, vent out all that meaty dust?

But, really, how else could it be- downwind of a kibble factory?

And, slow flows the cloying odor every eve.

O’er the cattail swamp- the widening river.

It makes me sneeze. The pet food industry’s

smattering of chicken, beef and liver.

Forgive my rude inflection, somehow I have a predilection

to a septal misdirection and a chronic nose infection.

This wouldn’t be an ending I’d’ve chose.

Help, I have soy protein up my nose.