NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty-Six: Flashback

Memories arrive like choke chains.

That smell

curled inside your nostrils

that sort of seems like Christmas

but you can’t remember why.

It can be summer,

sweat sliding into the creases

behind your knees,

shoulders tight, and prickled,

where you know they’ve been caught

because you left the house too soon

without sunscreen of glasses

to keep your forehead from crumpling

into frown lines against the sun,

blinking away the green dancers

flashing into view when the lights dim.

Even with the sound of children,

crashing through the shallows

and pedalos cutting through the lake,

one smell can spring you into winter.

Make you shudder

and wish

that the name you’re thinking of

was a little closer than the tip of your tongue.

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