what my mind decided while walking along a path with a flowered hedge

his hair smelled of rhododendrons
the last time he tried to kill me
it must have been spring
tumbling through those red blooms -- the basement window –
hot air full heavy on displaced pollen
panic
reminded by the sickening sweet scent
i fought until my fingers bled
the next year
ripped that plant out of the ground with my own two hands
every last root