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  Home > Mainstream > Poetry > The Scent of “Young”
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Mark M Lichterman


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The Scent of “Young”
By Mark M Lichterman   

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Taking a recess from my "What If" series, "The Scent of “Young” actually happened yesterday and I felt a need to put it forward.
Thank you.
Mark

___________________________________________________________________
 

The Scent of “Young”

 

The young woman and me,

we sat on opposite sides

of one of a half dozen

crowded picnic tables

scattered about  the

Thousand Oaks “Bark Park”.

 

She,

sitting to the far right

of her bench,

the young woman of,

oh, possibly twenty-three,

I don’t even think aware

that I had sat,

the young woman

sat looking downward.

 

And me,

an old man of

seventy-seven,

looking forward,

sat to the far left

of my bench.

 

Fiddling with her phone,

maybe playing a game

or sending a text,

every now and then

looking up,

a slight whistle would

emit from the young woman’s lips

to remind the energetic little white,

mixed breed dog that she

was still here,

that she was still watching

as Kody,

I think not so enraptured

with the tumult

and multitude of mixed scents

from the hundreds of thousands

or possibly millions of urinations that had soaked

the ground of the Thousand Oaks Bark Park,

Kody sat contemplating the throng of dogs

doing doggy things…

like running,

Kody sat within the shade within easy reach.

 

A lovely day

with the mid-afternoon

Southern California

winter sun treating us

to a near eighty degree day

along with a slight, warm breeze.

 

The slight, warm breeze

bringing to me the scent of the young woman.

 

The scent of the young woman

being,

I didn’t know,

spice or floral,

I didn’t know

I couldn’t place the scent

except the wonderful scent

of this young,

oh, possibly twenty-three year old

woman brought me back sixty years…

sixty years

to the wonderfully warm

spice or floral

scent of youth,

the scent

of a girl from my youth

of a girl

that I knew not whom,

and I sat with my eyes closed

savoring,

savoring the gentle warm breeze that

brought the scent of this young woman to me,

bringing to me the scent

of long forgotten love

bringing to me the scent of…?

the scent of the young woman

bringing to me the sense of

“young”.

 

 

 

©February 24, 2012 / Mark M. Lichterman

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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Recent Poetry by this author.     All Poetry by this author
• Really, What If

• Words, I Need Words!

• Sex Now

• Smoke in The Wind

• Young

• Elderly Woman

• As Man And Woman

• Without A Woody?



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