Things They Used to Do
(a Double-Etheree)
by Michael Escoubas

It
was here
in springtime
after the boughs
of pine trees had shed
winter’s dazzling excess
it’s hints of decline and death
that a fragrance reached his nose
and he remembered a time long past
when we used to buy each other lilacs.

The “we,” the love of his life, her scent no
longer his to claim, but always there
became his bright and morning star,
she brushed away life’s shadows
her essence lives on in
things they used to do
his beginnings
and hers not
lost in
loss.



 

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