Holy Smoke

Smoke settles around us —
we travel with its fragrance.

Burning holds memory —
cedar, juniper — mesquite.

Sweet smells of wood unfold —
crackle and spark — ephemeral.

Smoke permeates our hair —
our clothing –  our layers of skin.

Scents travel deeper inside us —
to the seats of our memories.

We may wander, even walk away
— but no matter how far we go,

we still carry this scent within us
— and so, we are home again.

. . . . .

Poet: Susan Powers Bourne
Source: Ofelia Zepeda: “Smoke in Our Hair”
Process: Redacted pick and mix