Lilacs

It was clutter strewn.

Four years worth of living

in boxes, stacked all around us,

except for the sheets and blankets

still unpacked that last night.

I remember that,

and the smell of the lilacs you gathered.

Roses wouldn’t do.

They were too bold,

saying too much.

The lilacs were just right

for confessions unwillingly made.

The last few months

should have been packed away,

along with your copy of Shakespeare’s sonnets

and my biology text books.

That’s what we agreed to do.

But the scent of lilacs

while the moon shone on us both,

weakened our resolve

to never say the words

we swore we would not.

Before dawn came we said them,

despite knowing how much easier it would be

if they weren’t true.

We learned easier doesn’t mean happier,

as the lilacs bore witness to a new promise
of a word we would not say.

Goodbye.

Song Choice: Something Stupid performed by Robbie Wilson and Nicole Kidman

This poem was inspired by a prompt given by A Dash of Sunny: Nothing Is More Memorable Than Scent.