The smell of youth

The smell of youth caught in my throat

spurting memories spray a sweet acrid taste

rusting in lost fog, discarded dreams afloat

tasteless, clouds of drifting waste

Seams broken, leaking, swollen

up twisted nose pressing a blank wall

In evening's setting dawn's stolen

when color blind see spring in fall

Wrapped in vacant eggshells

chicks dream scraps of young dreams

lifted by dancing thunder's smell

echo in technicolor bubbling streams

Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Powerful descriptions fired in rapid succession. They say, "youth is wasted on the young" but I guess all wisdom comes with a price. This was such a great read.

[Soren]

Thanks for the read Fabian I appreciate the gracious comments.

[Thomas W Case]

Brilliant imagery and use of the senses. You evoke emotions and paint this scene well.

[Soren]

Thanks Thomas for the review and most generous comment it is appreciated.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

'Wrapped in vacant eggshells"
I still remember these feelings...my youth...not having direction but somehow finding it.
Being color blind in fall is definitely a drawback...missing out on all that beauty...and when we are in our youth, we seldom appreciate what is right in front of us...we just want more and more and more...faster and faster.
But those roses really are worth smelling after all.
j.

[Soren]

Thank you Jacob true and once again on track. I appreciate your reads and comments.