Senses

I hear
Rain pounding on the concrete
The distant echoing of a dog barking
The ocean crashing beyond the hill
I see
Trees swaying in tune to the wind
Wild flowers reaching up to kiss the raindrops
An elderly man sitting on his front porch
I smell
Rain cramping it's way onto the streets
Freshly brewed coffee inside my home
Dampness of the bark mulch in my flower beds
I taste
Cleanliness of the fresh air
The hot bitterness of my folgers
And the sweet, nuttiness of my coffee creamer
I feel
The barometric pressure assaulting my joints
The warmth from my sleeping dogs
The rough hewn edges of an old book