Staying with friends this day,
Morning omelets, then visiting
A neighbor's studio.
Coffee, with another just in
From Malawi, ready for sleep, it’s
A long flight.
Throughout all, the aroma of lilacs.
Such a Victorian symbol of
Spring, and youth,
And innocence. But beyond the fresh
Joy of the season, the smell of
Lilacs has always
Evoked a minor key of nostalgia,
A sense of loss for those things spring
Can not renew.
T'was a seven years difference,
Between you and me. Today,
A scant two.
In the afternoon, we set out
The lilacs and, shadowed
By that scent
Of memory, painted them
Under the shade splashed oak.
I miss you.
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