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I wasted twenty-three minutes studying the lilacs,

waiting for them to open.

I knew it was much too early, a bit too cold and overcast

but I waited anyway.

I so wanted them to open,

so needed their reminder of a little girl who loved lilacs

and the lilies of the valley that thrived beneath that massive bush.

I did not have the joy of marveling at the tiny 4-pronged floweret

that only gathers its grace when among its peers.

It was a day when only old fashioned lilacs would do.



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