A Sweet Scent

Chanel No.5. Waxy lipstick.

The clip clop of leather heels.

Smell of my mother lingers

since I was a little girl

As an adult,

I know my mother's scent

A soft musk

That I only get

When I go in for a hug

deep sighs and closed eyes

a shot of hydration in the desert of passing time

But as a mother,

I see my daughter

this radiant ridiculous joy

and wonder

Could she have been my mother

in the faraway countryside

smelling of manure

mud, long blades of grass

a hard days fragrance

of a hungry working class

Or my grandmother I could only trace

a faint outline in my memory bank

Or her mother before that

and her mother before that

And as a daughter,

I would hug my mother

tighter

and tigher

until I could reach through

to all the women before

wrapping arms through

our belly buttons

And whisper gently to her growing eyes

It’ll be alright

you survive

and pass on joy and light

for she is the world's

sweetest delight