In a discarded hand bag, the lip balm from Target
And one smell, here at the bleak coast town
Ghost town
Shoots an electrical current through my bloodstream
I am in Amherst in high summer
The sticky long days and trees, so many trees
Green shaded by a different light
The house with that unique smell , American clean carpet
The shredded wheat, the big pharmacies full of strange surprises
Malls with perfumes upon perfumes
And you
A life, in charge
Goodbye is always on the horizon
When the bus arrives in the humid afternoon
Chest hugging my pride
Waving from the window.
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