the breeze just sent me
one of your memories --
the lavendar scent of a lilac

you'd tell me about them
on winter-white days
gazing out over the snow
your voice and your eyes
always went soft
as you remembered

being nine
in the maine mountain home
where the rich man's teenager
      hung himself
you used to look over the river below
to the crowded town
on the other side

hidden from people
surrounded by lilacs
you were happy

you always trailed off
at the end of the memory
and sat beside me
lost in the past
watching a nine-year-old woman smile
on a mountain top in maine

you left my life too soon
for lilacs

@ 1994
Daryl Hrdlicka