Season of Lilac
in april you come to me again in lilac
fall on my cheek like rain
take my hair like wind.
it is the sense of you the heat
brings in august, when life glistens
on skin and earth's deep smell climbs
high, bursting the veins of leaves
with the kind of joy birds know
as night cocoons to day, seasons turning
and december falls with the clear breath of you
sweetened ice on my tongue;
fall is the time when days drift
to sea to smother sand with damp wings
and your eyes touch fire, causing spark.
the seasons are full with you
the calendar rattles its leaves
for a glimpse of time's reflection
racing through my blood—
leaves fall, grass strains for wind
the soggy sky shakes itself dry
like a dog in from the snow to the fire
and love climbs like smoke
seeking its own level.
in april, then, you come to me in lilac
fall on my cheek like warm rain
take my hair like gentle wind
call me to lie down in fragrance.
by Dave Margoshes
from Walking at Brighton, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan
Thistledown Press, 1988.