Spring flowers bloom briefly.
   We take them in.

Lilacs—
   their fragrance,
      soft on the eye.

In the 1960s
   neighbors grew them
      everywhere—
        then spring gave way
         and they were gone.

I planted lilacs
   in this place:
      a fresh start
         rooted in memory.

Enough to share—
   now they line the street.

Before summer's heat,
   we pause,
      breathe them in again,
         and remember.

Copyright © 2026 Paul Deaton. All rights reserved.