i picked the pine cones and carried the smell on my hands the rest of the day
and it reminded me of that time when we were young and we played by the swings
where your grandfather killed the big snake and my grandmother made us lunch,
we ate our lunch by the pines behind my house and i could taste the smell of those trees on my toast and carried it with me through that day, through my life and into today, 40 eternal years later
I remember when she picked the poppies in the garden
and that photo was snapped on a summer afternoon.
A short time later, she became ill and was never the same
person again. But there, in that photo, she smiles while
picking poppies and that day becomes engraved in our memories.
Remember the thrill of spinnning in circles
and the smell of the earth in the month of May?
Remember Christmas morning when you were 3
or the smell of funnel cakes and cotton candy at the fair?
Remember when the grown-ups remembered
and the stories seemed disconnected to your little life?