Senses...

the smell of warm asphalt steaming
after the rains done leaving

the crunch of cold powder snow
the clouds have thrown

the feel of milk
on the upper lip

the sound of rain on currugated iron
the way the baby laughs again

the scent of a new-born wick in flame
the look when you forget my name

a waft of bitter coffee
past a favourite cafe

an acoustic guitar finely tuned
voicing the heart's open wound

a man feeling fear leave
letting old tears breathe

the moment before you walk the board
to breathe new life in the bard

a smile that spreads
through other's heads

a sense that nothing can spoil
what is right in this world.