Spring, Spring, Spring

This day is a requiem I sing to you

as we sit beneath the budding maple

the scent of lilacs in the air

It’s enough to talk to you

and memorize your words on my skin

to recognize the feel of your voice

and the rhythm and cadence of each breath

I’ll remember the lilacs too

this scene written in history

when time was young

and so were we.

At least, for me, seconds paused and the hours stood still

so that, in the end, it was we two

in a moment time forgot

And the sun hung heavy

And the wind brought laughter

And we sat beneath the budding maples

with the scent of lilacs in the air.

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