Spring and all its flowers,

and the wind hinting at

heavier, hotter, breezes to come,

the atmosphere laden with

water and heat.

Blazing sunlight, brown, burnished tans,

and the scent of sweat and cut grass,

Ice cubes clinking in an ocean of 9:00 lemonade,

Mint in the garden, overgrown and lush.

the sweetness of a day spent in motion.

None of it compares.

I remember the spider, long legs skittering away

in the tall grass,

and I remember sticky-sweet birthday-cake ice cream,

disgusting, and yet you ate [half of] it.

I remember nervousness, exhilaration,

turning so red that I couldn’t feel anything except my face.

I remember feeling a rightness, for the first time,

that I was in the right place, finally,

finally, in the right time.

 

Nesha Usmani

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