By Will Schmidt
You’ll see it when you close your eyes and the darkness is smudged away by soft morning
colors—peaches, raspberries, and bananas.
You’ll feel it when you step into a frigid shower, before warm can stretch her lingering fingers to
You’ll taste it when a bitter morsel runs rampant across your taste buds, a trail of succulence in
You’ll smell it when the air hangs heavy with storm, but your nose will only recognize the thin
musk of spring dogwoods.
You’ll hear it when gusts threateningly rake across your ears, and you can happily dance to the
tune of some distant muse.