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| Above photo app-enhanced, Circular |
Conversation is a silver key to memory. I miss (mourn?) lilacs. Not California ceanothus; that lilac of my New Jersey childhood. Would you believe, someone sitting at the same table at a women's gathering tells me she has a flowering lilac in her yard; she will bring me cut flowers. Synchronicity is afoot as we're served corned beef and cabbage in the most flavorful of broths. With a splash of rum. Yes, rum.
I'm in heaven. Heaven continues two days later as she gives me these blooms. Thanks, Tenaya!
I like the white table in the top photo as it reminds me of fabric lilac buds on my Easter hats. More hat and bit of lilac.
Before the month is spent, perhaps there will be a Psalm to Lilacs.
Sun changes grass to hay
ReplyDeletewe're both writing something or other
It becomes a surface everyone wants to re-arrange
her home cannot just be spiral bound
there must be meadows and places to roam
She disdains the mechanical
though it courses its way through the afternoon--
her bankable rhythm with words
5/20/96