I am french fry and hamburger grease
left by the carry-out from In-n-out
that my brother and his rowdy waterpolo friends
would bring into the house.
I would wait every afternoon as
my brother and the boys would get out of practice,
especially during the fall
when their official season began.
One would know it is a fall afternoon
when my familiar aroma would fill the dining place
in a much stronger way
than it would on any other day.
Blending with the sharp smell of chlorination,
each scent would marry into an unexplainable odor
that signaled the fall season.
But it was not just during the fall,
I lingered around like a stain on kitchen tiles.
So heavy was my aroma,
one that we all became accustomed to.
But I still brought us altogether
and unreservedly united us like a family.
I was desired after and awaited for,
I was welcomed all year-round.