The Smell of Love
by Jeanetta Calhoun Mish

with apologies to Hal David

Now that I have found you
tonight I will sleep in your sweatshirt
salvaged from the dirty clothes hamper.
I will clutch your pillow close to me,
lie on your side of the bed because
it’s the smell of love I require.

The look of love is in your eyes
but I can’t see you now
when you’re lulled to sleep
by the salty fragrance of the Pacific
and I am here at home snuffling our
sheets for the sweetness of your skin.

I can hardly wait to hold you
our two lives entwined, but look
of love trusts sight for remembrance—
vision, that most deceptive of our senses.
Even blindfolded, I would know you
if I could inhale your body’s bouquet.

A look that time can’t erase
relies on the portraitist’s skill—
images fade, time alters the original
yet it is known that a single aroma
unlocks memories long forgotten
so I cling to your rainy scent

So many nights like this

Copyright 2023 by Red River Review. First Rights Reserved. All other rights revert to the authors.
No work may be reproduced or republished without the express written consent of the author.