A lilac reflects on National Poetry Month

April can and can't be the cruelest month but without question, April is National Poetry Month.  Like beauty, words are a reflection and they know how to sail. Words also absorb light.  Continuing in the purple vein (as in prose), consider the eggplant & how deliciously it absorbs olive oil & crafts a perfect sentence with tomatoes & basil & garlic & feta & walnuts.

Conversation

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.