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.