Through My Window

The fresh smell of a
neighbor's fresh cut grass;
the scent of gasoline that has
billowed out from a lawnmower
in the form of smoke.

Another season, this time
the overlooked aroma of a rainy day.
Fresh October wind pushes
leaves past my window.

The crisp scent of a fine winter's day
cannot always be had,
sacrificed instead for the sake of warmth.
The fresh fragrance of
blooming flowers in May.

My window is really
just another door.