Smell (Fourth in the sense series)

Walking by the wooded creek the fallen leaves and scent
  of murky water reaches my nose.
 The carcass of a now lifeless squirrel lays posed as fire ants
  are eating decaying putrid flesh.
 Smoke from dried wood and trash offend my nose hairs as 
  harsh chemicals float above my head.
 The protective smell of the Spotted Skunk, one can’t miss
 as I change quietly where I tread.
 Now the last remaining odor of stinky feet comes forth
 from a vast array of rhododendron.
 A fresh heap of still steaming dog feces irritates my  senses
 and nearly causes me to stumble.
 Leaving the trail, the vented air from laundry drying carries
 a feeble simulated flower scent.
 Then much to my delight a repeating bloom on an extra sweet
 thickly peddled gardenia sings,
 Pushing the last of her aroma forth while fall covers scents as the
 earth moves the cold she brings.

by JK Caggiano 10/19/19