Inhaling the Scent of the Wind

 /   /  By Emma Birches
Stone Soup Magazine
September/October 2013

By Sydney Pardo

The scent of apples whispers through the air
Reminding me of our lazy days in the orchard
Lying in a bed of violet morning glories
Inhaling the scent of the wind

Remember the day we held a butterfly funeral
in grandma’s backyard?
You found it in the dirt beneath the bougainvillea bush
With only one fiery wing
That fluttered into silence

We talked about everything and nothing
By flashlight under pink and purple sheets
Biscuit asleep between us, tail curled in comfort

You stopped coming around
When you turned thirteen
The two years between us
Suddenly yawned into a black abyss

You became a teenager
More interested in texting than watching hummingbirds fly
Boy talk, than watching the water dance in the fountain
And now when we meet
We are strangers

Inhaling the Scent of the Wind Sydney Pardo

Sydney Pardo, 13
Irvine, California

About the Author

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