Wind brushes my skin like a lover leaving a slight chilled after kiss... Night skies a reddish purple, storm brews near. The neighbors air conditioner loudly emits a mechanical whorl of fan blades Dogs bark from a distance, alert my eyes scan nothing out of ordinary. Trees dance in this dusky breeze The whoosh of traffic from a block over a meditative quality. my cigarette goes out No lighter... No sweater to buffer the cool midnight breeze Whispering storms a'drawin' near. Street lamp lights glare causing the twinkle in my deep blue eyes. Train rumbles train tracks in the far away, nostalgic with childhood memories of Boxcar Children.

"Smells are intertwined with the light puft of wind and the earthy smells before a storm...bacteria released from the ground, so scientists say... but to me that smell intoxicates"

The breeze picks up dried winter leaves, gracefully scatters across the cooling concrete Purplish skies tossed with rolling black clouds creating ominous creatures that loom overhead. Thunder grumbles as lightening electrifies the heavy air Sharp contrast this abstract night. An orchestra of crickets add music with their high and low trills... all eyes on Conductor Owl for his keen sight keeps them sharp... ready for the exact moment to halt and take a quick life saving bow...

Shadows dance to the night sounds, some lost in romantic embraces or mired in murderous deeds... Keeping to the darker places, just out of sight. The grassy ground reflects elongated shadows reaching for the edge of the world in hopes of finding truth, Pine trees become jagged giants angry at the encroaching of their land... the sharp edged roof outlines the ground with inky blackness are lost within the bright blindness of street lamps and LED headlights.

Smells?

Smells are intertwined with the light puft of wind and the earthy smells before a storm...bacteria released from the ground, so scientists say... but to me that smell intoxicates The senses bringing about serenity calmness, delicate flowered undernotes of honeysuckle and pine with the heavier smells of this week's garbage sour in the can [waits by the road for the weekly collection of our wasteful contents] From the neighbor's running car a mix of gas and oil burns the back of my throat as the sweetness of the dew-kissed grass chases away the acrid smell of today's sweat and worries.