Feeling Remember
Take a whiff
of Berkshire Bakery’s raisin baguettes as
you hug the bread bag
to parcel out a mintage Wisconsin quarter
from the change.
Memory settles in olfaction.
Inhale deeply—it’ll resurface.
You’ll recall the buttery aroma of
palmfruit oil, the dull-sweet
of leavened sourdough, the crispy cackle of
maple ovens, the wide grin, the
emphatic “Yes!”
Catching the
sour-sweet of autumn rain below
doughy cumulonimbi, you’ll have
suddenly felt an
inspiration of remember—
maybe the damp pine of your
childhood Housatonic attic or a word on the
tip of your tongue,
but (23 years) you’ll have forgotten. What
endures is the feel of remembering.
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