Oh, tell me the name of this smell. Some tincture
of trees? Ointmented pine with maple? Crab apples
smeared underfoot? Or thyme, the kitchen’s elixir?
Oh, tell me its name, this full September-steeping.
by Therese L. Broderick
NOTE: This piece was inspired by my visit yesterday to the home and gardens of Edna St. Vincent Millay. I was transported by the outdoor smells there. The last word plays with the name of the place, “Steepletop.” I was inspired also by a phrase from Millay’s poem “Renascence” — a “miracle / Of orchard-breath…”