Mimicry

Mimicry

Oregon

feels like nowhere within itself

And so many different places at once

Last night I found myself nowhere

And smelled the entire world over,

Boxed into one lifetime

papered and packaged for my small mind

To the northeast I picked up strands
of sticky sweet pineapple

blowing in from Taiwan

carrying the murmur of summer heat

the memory of water

Now, a cold wind blows over redwood

Calling away sweetness

And dropping off the persistent bite of time and age

The smell floats me from house to darkened house,
and I feel lost in the moment

but staid in time

The lights are off and that must smell like something too

But a cat skitters across my path
and diverts my memory of darkness

with its coarse fur
like coarse fur the world over

This morning, I felt cold sun shining down upon the dry grass on my front lawn

Just like when I was little

wearing a uniform

getting ready for school

Or walking down Olive
toward that heavy asphalt parking lot
thinking about interactions
planning out routes

Smelling the cold, dry sun on grass,
on eucalyptus
on crushed olives
with light illuminating off the oil in each dark pit.