Full Sail

From the sagging back porch, I could see the honeysuckles. They twisted the fence, pulled it away from its wooden posts And I would sit beneath it for hours. Drinking the nectar from the flowers. It never seemed to rain when I was young. Sometimes, when I fall into my car, I roll the window down and the breeze is the same one that took me away from home. It smells like asphalt and exhaust, but I swear I can still smell the sweet wildflowers beneath it all.