IF HAPPINESS PERRY OEI
The Black Oak Mugwort, hyssop, nettle leaf, witch hazel bark. Sheets of fog flew swiftly above my head in a dark night without moon and stars. It seemed like this winter would never end. I was thirteen years old and did not remember when I last saw a day of sunshine. I zipped my parka up to my chin and pulled the hood over my head as a gust of salty ocean air blew by, shuffling through the reeds. I waited in a ditch by the lone black oak tree on the ocean cliffs above the jagged rocks. Looking down at the mud, I noticed the front sole of my right boot had torn off and was flapping like a dog's tongue. The frosty ocean wind boomed in my ears, but I could hear her voice. — This winter will never end, she said. Hyacinth, moccasin flower, syringa, pennyroyal. Ragged robin with its deeply cleft petals. In a dark night without moon and stars, I waited for her by the black oak tree. This Winter In the morning, my older sister Holly sat beside me at the kitchen table next to the iron wood-burning furnace as we waited for the water in the copper kettle to boil. Holly’s big brown eyes were round like a cartoon cat’s. Her long, straight black hair flowed down the length of her back. Holly was looking at the book of pressed wildflowers and sketches which our mother left behind when she went away. On each page, under Perry Oei
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