there’s a spring smell <br />creeping into this <br />blue winter morning. <br />a warm odor of <br />cut grass and rain-coats. <br />smoke curls away from <br />me, tangling in the <br />thickness of the air. <br /> <br />sitting on this bank, <br />the lush ferns fall <br />away and the earth <br />feels cool and soft, i <br />notice the currents, <br />notice how my brain <br />is like this river <br />rushed and <br />recirculating <br />waiting and for what <br />will never come.<br /><br />Jesse Maizlish<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cut-grass-and-rain-coats/
