Our minds an intricate web of trials,
cascades of triggers launching memories.
The shade of green that was an aching fog
is today the top of a parked sedan.
Lavender is for a tall, plain woman
I never actually met, but dreamed of.
Patchouli brings back the dorm dining hall,
standing in line for orange Jello, and milk.
Sautéed onions? My mother’s happy smile
the first time she served them as vegetables
for dinner, big scoops & mounds on our plates.
Tonight, a warning shot of lightning, bright,
and then rumbling; the winds knotted and fierce;
the sudden downpour drenching passersby,
arms braced before their eyes, tshirts plastered
against thin ribs as they curse, stagger, scream.
Flashback. A night with rain like this, drenching,
suffocatingly thick, and I can’t wait
to be out in it, like a dog off leash
darting. Standing under the roof’s downspout,
quickly sodden as if I was swimming
through air turned into water, water turned
into a perfect sweetness. I feel safe,
laying flat, grassheads bobbing overhead,
trees around the periphery, and skies
rippling with bright erratic threads twining
into one another, a golden net
tossed across a black sky, cutting through clouds
so sharply that when the sky clears, the stars
themselves remember being trapped, captured,
for the space of a breath, or even less,
and then the stars forget again, puzzled.