Just passing by

The every day walk
and here she is at the kitchen again.
I slow down for
the sweet smell of cinnamon
and the eventual clove.
The pungent and surprising fruitiness of Aleppo peppers

Yet her cooking is not as luring as the other scents

I imagine she makes her own perfumes
With a myriad of aromas I cannot tell.
But I discern the woody blend with cedar and cypress,
a hint of bergamot, and
a base note of patchouli.
And the oh so fresh one with lavender and neroli
crafted for her skin in the summer.

I see her during the day
Experimenting with different blends
Trying them out on her skin
Until she finds the right one.

The image and ethereal scents linger for a few minutes
Then, dissipate.


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