Poem a Day 3: Walking the Seasons

Today's prompt for the third day of A Poem a Day (PAD) Challenge invites us to write a poem somehow inspired by smell. Well, I do enjoy cooking and could have fun with that, but instead, I'm drawn outside and cannot tell you which is my favorite season.

Winter bites my nose. 

Even snow blinds the senses. 

Yet we walk, sometimes slipping, 

our feet crunch tiny crystals into powder,

mixed with pine needles,

a hint of wood smoke now and then 

as we turn home.
Spring brings hope with every blossom,
new and fragile. Delicate yellow daffodils waver,

then bloom. Hyacinths, slow to bud, 
burst open. A riot of purple scent tickles
our way into those longer days of summer
and roses, red and peach and pink petals
unfolding until fall.
Maple and crabapple trees transform themselves,

dark orange and darker red, 

their leaves dry and twist in the wind,

releasing a brisk and crisp hint

of coming cold.  

We watch the geese fly south,

taking a last turn around the pond,

nearly glazed with ice,

and winter returns.

Image by Ricardo Capdepón from Pixabay