I walked with one who said
I cannot smell, after I’d inhaled
the pungent scent of Lillac
in the hedgerow we were passing
I lost that sense a while ago, he said
Although we walked a good long way
I was glad to end, and knew I’d lost
that drive I had for further still
Resting at Staverton Thicks, I thought
It is the narrowing down time.
Walking later just with dogs
I breath in the scent of privit
wild honey suckle that arrests
my path with surprise.
Knowing this a finite sense.