My vintage bottle of April Showers Cologne, saved from the junk pile by my mom, who saves everything.
April Showers
The tarnished bottle cap
twists in my fingers,
harsh metal clanking against glass
as the top swirls,
and then
releases,
unleashing a shower
of childhood memories.
***
I lift the glass close,
breathe in the sweet fragrance
of April Showers Friction Cologne
through a hole no thicker than a pencil.
***
Decades have passed
since I splashed this alluring
scent upon my stick-thin wrists,
into the hollow of my slender neck,
masking the odors
of cows and manure.
***
Transformed, I became
more than a preadolescent farm girl,
more than a sister who shared a pink bedroom,
who left wads of chewed Bazooka bubble gum
stuck on the dresser top
next to the cheap, bottled cologne.
I was somebody
who smelled pretty
and fancied herself
as Cinderella.
***
All this I remember
as I run my fingers
along the glass,
feel the raised imprint
of flowers and letters,
gently swirl the inch of yellow-green liquid that,
like a magic potion,
transcends time.
I open my bottle of April Showers and breathe in memories from more than 40 years ago.
Poem by Audrey Kletscher Helbling, © Copyright 2010
Written in celebration of National Poetry Month in April. Watch for more poetry news in future blog posts.
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
I am sure we all have fond memories of empty bottles, old papers or something we wore. Just can’t part with those types of things. Even the smell of cows or chicken barns bring back memories. Oh, the smell of lilacs bring back the farm and the out house which was placed between two beautiful lilac bushes.
Dorothy
An outhouse placed between two lilac bushes? How ingenious. I doubt I’ll ever view lilacs in quite the same way again.
I am so glad my mom saved my old perfume bottle. I reclaimed it several years ago from her house. The older I get, the more I appreciate “things” from my past. And as the family historian, you must certainly be pleased with that.