In the increasing hours I find your scent stained in time.
Unfolding in plumes of stale grey
it unveils each constituent, just as the sky reveals
each bird winging with it's flock.
They descend one by one, and I count
where, they waft between ground and air.
Your redolence sets into the ground
Swelling up and rising again with the morning's
grassy breath.
Flushed with youth your ascend begins.
I subsist in spurts of dashing minutes,
until you dismount the heavens for me again.