This morning a smell took me back.
Summerhouse
with a squishy marbleized mat on the kitchen floor,
Dutch doors split
corralling us, allowing salty air.
This morning a smell took me back.
Sea & Ski.
Chinese Checkers.
Wooden docks.
Brick steps.
This morning a smell took me back.
Worn towel
next to Daddy’s.
Straw hat on, he grabs my brother’s hand
step, step at the water’s edge.
This morning a smell took me back.
Sidewalks frame
the sea wall
that holds high street lights
and evening sand that cling to my feet.
This morning a smell took me back.
Ferry rides.
Ferris wheels.
Cotton candy.
Bumper cars.
This morning a smell took me back.
Packed tight
alleys and telephone poles
threaten
the sides of the station wagon.
This morning that smell took me back
Foggy beginnings,
quiet evenings
alone.
Magical dribble castles washed away.
Every summer, my parents would rent a beach house. The kids were allowed to run free in this island town. Unbelievable simple and sweet times. This morning, triggered by the smell of my shampoo, those memories came back.
Thank you, Two Writing Teachers Blog for the March Slice of Life Challenge to write daily. Writing forces me to notice and remember details that make up my past and present. Read more slices here.
To Read To Write To Be 