Amber Noir.
poem
Amber Noir - Will Gibbons
The scent of tobacco and salt,
sun-kissed skin, sawdust
steeped in amber resin.
Sticky, steaming.
He never quits on what he loves—
a handful of things, but he loves them deeply,
as roots can go.
I wish to capture this scent and trap it in a bottle,
embalmed forever, sealed in wax,
so I can press it to my chest, inhale
when nothing else
is left.
About the Creator
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Well-wrought! This one really made scents to me! Dad jokes aside, to recall some beloved person or pleasant memory by scent alone is always a treasure, and you did an excellent job of conveying that here!
Very creative and effective Imola. Liking those last few lines a lot!
Wow potent imagery of a familiar scent. I can see why this deserve ,Top Story ! 👏👏👏
I can smell it all right now! Congratulations, Imola, on your top story❣😊
Back to say congratulations on your Top Story! 🎉💖🎊🎉💖🎊
Gorgeously-penned!
Beautiful description. I could almost smell him. This poem hit home. I have a bottle of my Dad's favorite aftershave, I breathe it in and slip one of his old sweatshirts on and pretend he's still here to hold me.
wonderful...
Ahhh...olfactory imagery. So well done. Rich and powerful poem. The ending is haunting and lovely.
I love the way scent is tied to memory here. I often find scents bring back memories.
I wish we could actually do that! It would be so nice 🙂↕️🙂↕️ Loved your poem!