Memory

Today smells of
Autumn mulching
Turning over, rotting brown and
Orange. Playgrounds
And asphalt scraping knees. Stings
Crisply like autumn air.
Wet cold like
Dry heat. Like the chill of
Painted brick, like the harmony of
Ducks and of Union
Stations.

Today smells of
May. Of trapped musk and
Library. Samosas.
Fear, love, tears,
Death,
Mourning, healing. Soft
Words flowing smoothly through our silences. Strong
Words bellowing through the shelves of
Revolution. Raw
Words scraping
Away veils of protection. Exposing
Veins
Bleeding into one another like
The Missouri River when it meets the mighty
Mississippi. Like the parched crevices of
LA, and when wood soaks the
Smells of mildew and mold deep into its
Fibers, holds them there in
Memory.