The fantastic weeks of May slip by with me caught up in a web-
a web of lead that sits upon my chest.
The web fogs my vision, but through the fabric I can see it is beautiful all around me.
It's all folly, the lilacs seem to say to meand I know it.
Their sweet scent brings me back to the clear
and I know I can do what needs to be done.
You are a fool, the Saskatoon says to me,so much more harsh- honest?-than her sister Lilac.
What makes you think any of it matters?
I will grow, flower and set my berries while you fitter away your hours.
The Lilac lays a gentle, cool hand on my head.
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