three years ago,
my first march in
this house.
overwhelmed by circumstances,
unaware of what
i was in for.
liz
in her bed at
the hospital, madeline
still waiting
to arrive.
the flowers
blooming in
our yard…
grapefruit, lemon and
orange blossoms.
the yellow flowers
on the vine.
the jasmine bush and that
tree in the back
i thought was
dead, suddenly covered
in small, white flowers.
that scent,
like waking up in the
gardens at the
other huntington.
that scent,
you could smell it
a block away.
that scent,
it could cover up
the constant shit smell
of a leaking septic tank
(in my neighbor’s yard, not mine, thankfully).
that scent,
it’s back.
it reminds me
it’s march.
that she never
got to take it all in,
and that i’ll never
be who i was
back then.