The Five Senses

We had an assignment to write down a daily list of sensory words and phrases. I wasn't good about it. I thought about as I fell asleep at night and wrote them down a time or two. But not on a regular basis. So here is what I would have written if I had done the exercise.

I saw the black gnarly branches of a tree blown over in the storm.
I smelled the skunk in Colusa and the fainter smell of something dead under my friend's house. "It must have thought, 'this would be a good place to die'", she told me.
I tasted the blueberries in the thin sliver of berry pie I ate at the potluck after giving up sugar earlier in the day. It reminded me of my mother's homemade blueberry pie.
I heard the tapping of the computer keys as my partner wrote his daily poem.
I stroked the fat, orange cat as he inched cautiously towards me on his cat tower.
I saw the gun on the deck of the ship I toured on Mare Island. I imagined what it would have been like during a battle.
I touched the cold metal on the LCS and wondered how the men ever got warm.
I heard the chattering blackbirds in the leafless tree in the WinCo parking lot.
I caught the tantalizing smell of grease as I walked past the In n Out Burger.
I tasted the bitterness of the Green Tea I drank because it's good for me.
I saw a lake of Snow Geese in a flooded field on the way to Colusa.
I heard the whoosh of the furnace first thing in the morning.
I smelled the burnt popcorn.
I tasted the vitamin pill that got stuck in my throat.
I touched the cold feet of my partner.
I saw three geese flying in one direction and two geese flying in the opposite direction.
I heard the insistent honking as they jockeyed for position, spelling each other.
I smelled the coffee perking in the other room.
I tasted the brownie I didn't eat at the workshop.
I felt the rough wool of the scarf I wore to keep the draft off my neck.
I saw the yellow box on the blue sofa.
I heard my neighbor's dog, Lucy, greeting a friend.
I felt the springy curls of the Bichon Frisee.
I smelled the cinnamon on the oatmeal my partner just handed me.
I tasted the cheese in the pasta last night.
I saw raindrops on the clothesline, ready to hit the deck with a plink, tasting winter, smelling the Bay, touching gray satin wetness.