Smells like October

wet spring followed by this,
a parched, dry fall.
crush of katsura leaves underfoot
releasing toasted warmth, buttery, cozy, smell of fall.
catch a whiff of gardenia-scented silverberry blossoms,
of sweet perfumed eternal fragrance daphne,
or salad freshness of sasanqua camellia,
and rotting figs,
fermenting apples,
wildfire smoke on the wind.
dry and drier,
drooping leaves,
crisped and browning,
dormancy hastened not by frost but
by drought.
let the fall dry gardens live on, not die, not yet, wait
for rain.

sense of smell elevated with dry warmth,
richer, fuller fragranced
than a wet October.
all the aromas of this month:
dust, leaves, fruit, flowers
a nostalgia
a remembering
a daydream:
that childhood day in the pumpkin patch
spiced cider and Halloween hair dye.
hay and manure and caramel-coated apples.

low angled autumn light catching pear-shaped rosehips,
golden grasses, black heads of coneflowers
no dew, nor frost, nothing moist.
crunch and cough.
no earthworms surface,
bees sunny linger on asters and salvias.
seeds to sew,
waiting for rain:
madia, collomia, clarkia, and cow parsnip,
for petrichor—the smell of wet earth,
oh, the drip of cloud to fir needle to sword fern to ground,
dripping from nose tip, dampening all smell.
daydreams and present truths,
swinging through time and fantasy and prayer,
pull me to the present with scent, warm and toasted,
katsura again,
and silverberry
and fig.

silverberry (Eleagnus x ebbingei)