Lilac Time

Lilacs in the back yard bloom
another year gone
another trip around the sun
complete.

The hard green buds soon unfold
the perfume rises
and I wobble like a top
every time.
















When the lilacs bloom
I’ll leave my room
through the window
like a groom
in a painting by Chagall.

I’ll hesitate just long enough
to call you.

















Eight o’clock in the evening
on the ninth of May
on my street

the lilacs shine
like night lights
in the shadows

of the cool green yards.