Parfum De Cay

Fallen petals from a funeral wreath, freshly dug-earth, and a hint of rot… linger in the graveyard air and mingle with the living scents of the spring breeze— of lilac and honeysuckle, and the more elusive smell of memories and of prayers They are present here, as she sits beside his grave Recalling with eerie detail the lines of his face, the love in his eyes And wonders with morbid thoughts how those features have transformed now As she contemplates what lay beneath the earth’s crust and what similar fate awaits her, there comes a new smell among the stones and moss— An overwhelming smell of fear.