Walking through the store Perfume permeates the air Leaving traces of where Last you were I follow the scent Imagining Pasta con broccoli Creamy homemade sauce Garlic bread sticks Red wine uncorked Chocolates to melt In your mouth But then my thoughts Wandered no more I was in the diaper aisle
The beauty of poetry you can make up thoughts and write about whatever you want real or imagined. Poems are what .you make of them.