The scent of the pores of the Earth
Opening up as the sky pours into it.
Smells have no filter.
They draw a direct line to the past.
With one deep inhalation
I am connected to a million lives lived.
Past lives are subtle
But my childhood is vivid.
We take the long way home
No matter the weather.
All four windows down
As we drive just below the speed limit.
The wind blowing in my mother's hair
Nostrils out the window and parallel to the headlights.
Pulling the miniature forest into her lungs.
As a kid it was just
Another strange adventure.
But also fun to see
My mother transported to another time and place.
Our drive was through a thin slice of the park.
But she devoured that slice
And it fed her until our next ride.
I pulled more moist air into my sinuses
Into the backs of my eyes.
I opened up that memory
And let it pour out back into the soil
So that the next time it rains
She can enjoy the scent again.
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