He clipped their stems,
just so they would fit
in the red antique vase,
then plunged them
into the clear,
new water,
Lilacs,
a translucent symbol
of another Jersey spring,
their perfume
drowning surrounding buds
into an agreed submission,
retaining it's ancient crown,
with a knowing that a force
much bigger
than human progress,
could spread an aroma
right through the countryside
with an effort
humble
as a nun.
...
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