Homesick Heart

Home smells like aged Parmesan

Kentucky bluegrass, freshly lawned

Northern red oak, quarter-sawn

And dew warmed in the early dawn

Savored scents — tobacco pipes

Peaches, picked, perfectly ripe

Lemons in sweet tea on ice

And aftershave made of old spice

Aroma mixed of fresh baked bread

Motor oil and Sunday’s spread

Egyptian cotton, thousand thread

Where lucid dreams awake grief’s bed:

A home fragrant of baby’s breath

And fresh carnation’s smell of death

My broken heart spilling, bereft,

The salty tears that sense regret