Heaven

the sound of a six cylinder Detroit diesel beneath splendid skies a glimpse of purple forest flowers on the open road, flanked by slow-swaying fields and thoughts stubbornly nestling themselves in his youth, wiggling like catfish in the bayou the smell of chrysanthemums in spring mom's lavender soap and peach preserves sweet Susan from next door 5 years his senior who showed him the route to her supple thighs that late afternoon returning home with a stupid smile instead of the sugar he was suppose to borrow