I've always loved plants.
And I've always asked questions.
Behind our yard was a forest.
Or, it looked like a forest to me.
Pine trees so crowded
I couldn't see the road,
though I could hear cars
in nighttime's quiet.
Needles were always falling
into the yard, sometimes cones.
In summer, their pollen
painted everything yellow.
Why don't the pine needles fall
like the trees in the front?
Mom said they were just
different types of trees.
The front trees were in fact
three Bradford Pears.
Trees with leaves hanging
low enough to investigate.
They had beautiful, tiny,
detailed flowers I could study.
They smelled heartily.
I cherish that smell even now.
The pines were felled
to put in more houses.
The Bradfords died slowly;
the species is short-lived.
Every time I smell or see
those beautiful flowers
and when pollen coats cars,
childhood memories flow.
BlogHer Prompt: Things your childhood home is between
The front yard and the back yard :)
Nice, semi-melancholy remembrance, Jessica.
ReplyDeleteThank you Bubba! Always nice to see you.
ReplyDelete