When There are Lilacs

When there are lilacs,

all doubt recedes,

the world is fragrant,

kind,

and perfect,

filled with memories

of a million bouquets,

tied with string,

set in our wagon,

ready to be sold,

in front of the A & P in town, 

the money divided up

among us,

not equally.

 

When there are lilacs,

I can believe,

in the invisible pulse,

bursting through 

into bloom,

kind,

fragrant,

and perfect.

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