Lilacs bloom in spikes,
sun illuminates them top to bottom,
cardinals clash with their purple
and complement the leaves outward
coming as May progresses,
I feel their scent around my bed at night,
a light spice of spring still moving its breeze
around days replete with song sparrows
bubbled trills, a slight chill of shadows
cast by oak leaves smaller than a squirrel’s foot,
you pivot closer, drawn in by ripples left
by an early evening fly hatch from one
small still curve of pond draining past
curls of ferns,
I sketch an overhanging lilac over your
left cheek, the caress I wanted to leave
with you before today departed in
orange pink petals deepening to black.
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