I sniffed an iris today,
one of those big, bearded ones,
gold with a splash of red wine.
At my mailbox, I bent down,
touched my nose to
cool,
curved,
smooth,
silky petals,
and inhaled its heart-scent.
I knew what it held,
what it always holds—
my childhood,
at least part of it.
The fragrance sent me time-traveling
back to a long ago garden,
a wide triangle edged in gray cinder block
in a West Texas back yard.
The whole flower bed was filled
with irises,
the deep purple bearded kind,
filling the air with perfume.
The rushing wind,
always in a hurry to get somewhere,
made the irises dance.
And when the wind brought rain,
the drops drummed wild music
on the corrugated fiberglass porch roof
that covered the concrete patio where,
on sunnier days,
I sometimes twirled
in my sky blue parachute dress,
which I named for the way
the full skirt swirled when I twirled.
As I turn back to my mailbox,
I am awed and grateful
that this one iris
so gently holds me in its
cool,
curved,
smooth,
silky petals.
My memories are cradled
in the scent
of an iris.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

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Text and photos © Karyn Henley 2025. All rights reserved.