The Lilacs In The Evening Of My Poem

 

let the moon be bright and clear in my poem about the

lilacs though I know so many have written, have sung about

them before

still, they have not written my lilacs into their poems

how could they?

so I feel justified in making this small garden shine

and letting it be evening in the poem and it has rained

and of course the perfume of the lilacs is stronger now,

sublime, seamless with the dusk

thus, the wind knows it and the wind comes through my

poem's screen door and laughs and scatters all the papers

on the floor

and opens all the books to the former poems about lilacs

written across the ages

and we are like, that suddenly, this evening breeze and I

a shop with jeweled clocks and timepieces

all set to the same mystical railroad hour,

rose gold and engraved:

the self same loveliness ticking away and suddenly hushed

no longer young or old

just caught out in a lilac moment

and this poem I present to you

is a bouquet of them, at evening, tied with ribbons of

silver in the aforementioned moonlight

and the purple clouds of the scent of the blossoms

has made you happy

thinking about this:

in Heaven the lilacs are immutable;

we will be too

mary angela douglas 16 june 2021;2 november 2021;5 november 2021