The smell trickled. It was materialized.
Only when we had the feeling we could hold it in our hands
We began shouting.
We shouted with whatever remained of our voice.
It was a compact smell
Yet it left cracks for thoughts.
I whispered: this smell is another thing
That came too late in my life. Too late.

Background: The coming of the allies, the smell of smoke from distant cannons, the thoughts of the dead.