New But Familiar

I use to love the fresh scent of a wash
Being carried by the morning breeze,
As it hung on the line in the summer sun.
The way a newborn baby smells,
The oncoming droplets of rain,
The freshly cut blades of grass,
The smell of something new but familiar.

Now I love the gaseous scent of a car
Carrying me on my morning commute,
As its stuck in traffic in the sizzling sun.
The way an empty dumpster smells,
The upcoming dirty water dogs,
The freshly paved parts of roads,
The smell of something new but familiar.