Familiar Scents Poem by Kent Krauss

I took a drive on a familiar route with the window open
To take in the particular aromas, not a word to be spoken
And I noticed at first the rushing warm wind did dominate
The sensations, but then baked bread did come and sate
My sense for good smells, so I pushed on past flowers
In which I could pick out honeysuckle, a scent for hours
Of deep inhalation, but there was no time to linger
As the next block brought fruit pie smell, ripe for finger
To dip into, enjoying the sweetness, possibly after
That barbequed pork being slow-cooked in the rafter
Of the nearby store, but now I was nearing home
To smell my wife's luscious meal; I would not roam