• Emily Ellet

The Vanilla Pines



Can you smell the vanilla pines? she asked

No, I replied, rushing to set up her wedding

(Mine wouldn't be until the winter

When you can't smell anything)


Could I not smell them? I wondered

Or did I not have enough experience

To know what other pines smelled like


The mountain of adolescence

Looked north and south

And east

Whence I came

But longed to escape

The chains of my childhood 

Snaking across and around

My feet

Rooted to the ground

That rapidly eroding dirt

Shaky under my feet


East I went

To winter

And no pines at all


Jacob or Job

I knew not.


Ruth

I was Ruth

and now 

with Naomi on speed dial

i'm back home

but nowhere i've ever lived before

the mountain here looks 

east and north

but west


up to layers on layers of mountains

and gentle golden sunsets

promise

future

joy


and I can smell the vanilla

© 2018 by EMILY ELLET. Photos by MurphyMade Photography and HollyBright Photography.

emilyellet@gmail.com | New York, NY 

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Instagram
  • YouTube