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Easter Dinner


While standing in line outside the restaurant,
my nostrils are ambushed by
the welcome aroma of charcoal
burning in the outdoor grill,
causing my salivary glands to flood my mouth
in anticipation of the imminent
Easter culinary feast.
Nearby, flowering crabapple trees
proudly emit their sweet, blossomy scent,
electrifying the air with the
reminder of spring's arrival.
My attention is immediately diverted
to the attractive man in front of me in line,
whose earthy scent of musk
causes me to moisten my lips and
subconsciously lean closer.
The clean smell of an approaching storm
soon fills the air,
as we check on the availability of our table.
At long last, our name is called and
our party retreats inside just in time,
before all my olfactory senses embarrass me
by exploding at once
from delighful over stimulation.

* This poem is an exercise in using only ONE sense,
  The sense of smell.

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