gram

i smell my grandmother in the mornings of june.
a mixture of eucerine and toast
with a little bit of coffee mixed in.
and the blooming happy flowers brought to my nose
by a gentle southern california beachy breeze.

it is on the
gloomy
overcast
misty
mornings
that really bring those smells out.

and i still pinch myself
that i get to live in the same state
that i visited my gram in
each and every june since i was seven.

i also take great delight in
the fact that we have nearly identical
washing machines.

i relish in this time of year, especially.
or maybe it is just the birds chirping
the way that they do.
that might be it.