Like lingering aromas
Of baking bread
Of newly discovered
Rustling tissue paper
Hiding wanted gifts
Of streets steaming
By summer rains
Of shushing tires
After thunder storms
Of white blankets
Bathing northern pines
Of orange moons
At harvest time
Of acrid smells
In hay lofts
Of espresso’s fingers
Tickling early mornings
Of the plumpcity
In children’s cheeks
Of the first
Wet lapping kiss
From a puppy
These always remain
As they were
Simply deliciously fresh
