Orange blossoms used to be the sweetest scent
and grew to make me happy.
My grandma used to have a tree in her yard
and every morning I awoke to the sweet aroma
with my feet in dew soaked grass.
My grandpa had planted the tree just before he died.
He said that it would be enjoyed more than roses
and would stand longer as a statement of his love.
When my mom was pregnant with me,
she craved oranges and ate crates of them.
Then I was born
and my grandfather died.
I used to be allowed to climb the tree
until I was six years old
and the rain flooded the soil
and I slipped and broke my ankle
and my grandmother died.
The tree produced oranges
But they weren't as sweet.
The tree wilted
And my mother planted a sapling to show her love for