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.
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