Memory Sense

My Father Should Have Smelled Like Ink

Inspired by Bentlily’s prompt to write about how my father smelled

My father should have smelled of ink and paper,
from devouring every book within reach —
often chosen by size, not by subject.

I imagine him again at the kitchen table,
coffee and cigarette side by side,
a small act of triumph, or maybe denial.

If it was summer,
a finch tap-tapped at the window.
Only they two knew the code.