I am reminded of California when I hear the birds call to each other in the afternoon
I used to spend hours being as still as possible, so they’d trust me
or forget about me, I’ll never know

I am reminded of Maine when humidity hits
the smell of salt and wind cracking through my skin
I used to spend hours searching for sea glass on their tiny beaches
until my hands grew numb,
until my pockets were full

I am reminded of Italy when the Verbena bloom
a country full of colour, is somehow still one palette
from azure lakes to olive hills, and the small islands full of lemon trees and melon gelato
I used to spend hours in il giardino
thumbing through botanical encyclopedias
digging into latin, trying find meaning for my solitude
antirrhinum, basilico, mentha, zucca, cortarderia, pioppi, *vitis