I smell not-so-cheap perfume
From a rose climbing up the hill.
In three years, it will be over the hill
But still looks young
And hopefully not infested with too many butterflies.
I am not under a delusion on a gigantic scale
That the rose’s been awaiting me
For almost four decades.
Rather I might be in a fantasy
That the rose might be attracted to me
Or even it is blowing its pollen to my direction.
Ah! Unfortunately enough I have an odd feeling
That I am losing interests in roses.
Then I should call it a daffodil?
Not easy to give my innate habit to my dog,
I smell daffodil!
Or I feel September in August.
I have a pink Rose.
I had but lost a cosmos in early summer.
I have a strong sunflower too.
So it’s a daffodil?
That is why it’s alone but doesn’t look lonely.
But I am still smelling rose.