|
in
collection, Opulent
Hunger, Opulent Rage,
2009,
Main Street Rag Press, North Carolina. ISBN 978-1-5994820-2-6
Scent
“If it were possible
to see the universe as a whole, from afar,
it
would appear pale green, between aquamarine and turquoise”
The
New York Times January 11, 2002
And
the scent? Surely it’s not a single smell.
No
rose or ocean or homemade bread captures it completely.
Neither
could it be the sum of every scent— an olfactory black.
Maybe
some mixture, like cedar and cider, rust and rocket fuel.
Or
something like the metallic smell the air gives off
as
it begins to snow. Or the scent of parched dirt easing in the
rain.
Something
between dung chips burning in the desert and driftwood burning
at
the tide line. Something like the dry scent of silica.
Or mossy, fungal.
Maybe
the smell of mushrooms cooking, or onions; the richness
of
a long-simmered broth. Or breath. A scent between
the first milky breath
and
the last exhausted exhalation. Yes, like breath.
Leslie McGrath
|
