Scent Of A Woman Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

The sound first startled him,
a whisper from the world beyond?
He'd always been a man who could
entirely rely on all of them,
his cranial nerves, of which there are
twelve in all, his eighth, they called it
statoacousticus, and then the one
that always would alert him quickly,
the olfactory, he'd pick old scents
from many years ago, refreshing memories,
creating new adventures for his mind.
It was, he realised, not a faint sound.
Scent of a woman was the rush that blew his mind