Winded

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Damp coldness
blows by
with the scent of wildflowers
dragging up pieces
of past
with that single scent
i remember
blueberries, tossed high
into the air, falling
gracefully
into open mouths,
caught.

The feeling is stuck
inside my chest where
the helplessness lies
and my breath catches
hard swallows won’t dislodge
that panicked loneliness:
swells
and I am blown away 
by the scents
bowled over
by the hay-fever inducements.

it rises
like a phoenix
every so often,
the dying embers of
winter heat
breathe deep
 — inhale the promises
from yesterdays, pass — 
It creeps
through sluggish veins,
memory keeps
hurting most

when the dreams come,
it is all I can do 
to not run. Trapped
quicksand feet
encased in cement,
the lessons learnt
through hard work and
hard headedness
to think happy thoughts,
but you can’t run.
In dreams, when you fall
you Never-land.

The scents come
in the rain
sleek wind blowing
coldness settling;
the last cold
before spring flowers
and I know, I know
about April rains. I know,
I know, I know, I know
of seasons passing
and time changing
and planes leaving.

I have tracked
the migration of birds
and tracked sand
from cities to suburbs,
and I have turned
tables and flipped books
and written sonnets.
I have never been so fine,
as I am right now,
but the phoenix calls
and I fall.
Caught.

Blueberry taste
bitter in the back
of throat
with cigarettes
and the out of season blues
melting
in the almost-spring
I spring away
like a phoenix, rising
I know that we can die
a million deaths and burn

firework bright, flares
and still be OK
in the end.
In the end, all that mattered
were the memories…
buried in the heat
with beers that cooled
from the inside out.
Molson stained laughter,
damp sand in my shoes,
caught.

Caught up in
a memory moment 
flashes past. I crumple
from the views
of wildflowers, springing
forth and bringing
new light.
Pain; embraced
fairy-light memories,
touching arms, hooked,
so assured that
the rains will dry. Still,
Winded by
the scents.