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Heritage
©Aislynn d'Merricksson, 2015

I love the smell of old places.
It is the smell of history,
the scent of fading memory,
the echoes of times long gone.
It wraps around one like gossamer spidersilk,
invisible, ephemeral, yet tangible with all the
weight of decades, centuries, millennia.
It is the scent of coming home.

This poem is so beautiful and it takes me back to my past, the good old times. It reminds me of those old photographs I still keep in my photo basket. Very few poems actually manage to remind me of the good parts of my past so this poem of yours is honestly very wonderful <3

Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it.