where the writers are
Lilac Summer

The lilacs you and I planted years ago

I pick in large bouquets in June.

In that first green summer

 

the day’s temperature reached

its high long before noon.

Now, the lilacs you and I planted years ago

 

bloom until July, leaves still vibrant

in August when ripe berries leave their stain.

In that first green summer

 

we spent hours stirring batches of jam,

heat turning the green-white fruits deep red.

The lilacs you and I planted years ago

 

have since become a fort for my nieces

seeking a refuge from the heat of the day.

In that first green summer

 

we took evening strolls, lay atop haystacks

in the night’s cool reverie, high above

the lilacs you and I planted

on our first green summer.