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The Smell of My House by Bernard R. Rosenberg
There are many smells that occur in my house. It a sculpture at 1705 Wharf. It was built by me, Crewed by me, And it is the smell of accomplishment.
Just a few blocks from the bay, The salt of living things permeates this air. It is the odor of living things, Those that swim and multiply in the seas; The salt of life.
I live in this house And so does my wife. We share it only with the mow, A cat named Suerte, Spanish for Lucky, To grace our lives.
The aroma of food permeates this house, For I love to cook. Steam rises of many culinary things. Tributes to the odor of what will become.
Success lingers in the air of this of this home like ripened fruit. It is the sweetness of my wife, And the sweetness of me; We work so hard.
When it is cold we burn wood And the scent of embers comforts us. When it hot we burn energy And the cool refrigerates our minds. Temperature is ours, and it lingers.
We smell the success of good food and fine wine. We can sniff the approval of our friends. All is blossom in the breeze, Yet the miracle is missing.
We do not smell the odor of our children; That is what of most significant. It is empty, and no perfume fills our hearts.
To those who sniff it, I envy them. It is the greatest aroma; The gift of perpetual life. Nothing could ever smell so sweet´
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Contact: Mr Dereck Tel:
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