Now it's lilac time;
Lavender and white compete;
Bird flies from the bush.

The field is clipped neat--
Timna's bat mitzvah here soon.
Robins peck the grass.

Sky is full of gray;
A cold wind blows down the road.
A hard rain will fall.

Chain saw is humming;
Empty wrapper on the road.
A cold May morning.

Vaulted trees ahead
Touch their tips above the road,
Make a green tunnel.

Thousands of white buds
Spread across the forest bank
Waiting to blossom.

Rain is in the air;
Maple leaves are trembling;
Lilacs bow and sway.

The woods seem deeper,
The stone wall goes on and on
Into the darkness.

Carried on the wind:
The whispered breath of lilacs
And the hope of rain.

Gray clouds, sun patches,
Shivering rustling leaves;
A fragrant wind blows.

A flash of yellow:
Finch flutters to the tree top
And joins the green leaves.

White petals flutter;
Pale lilac bends in the breeze
Broadcasting its smell.

Truck groans up the hillLeaving a gasoline smell.
Then the woods return.

The deep, dappled woods--
Shiny puddles here and there.
Smell of moist, warm earth.

Shadows on the road;
Bird calls monotonously;
Fly hums in my ear.

Now the road is dark;
A hawk flies beneath the cloud
Just a silhouette.

Now stream is rushing,
Tinkling next to the road.
Now the bed is dry.

Shadow in the woods
Still, dark and mysterious--
A dog or tree stump?

Purring lawn mower
Moves swiftly across the field.
Sweet smell of cut grass.