The ride home last night was a bit annoying. People talked too loudly on the Métro and the bus; the scent of ingested brew permeated the bus and by the time she stood in line to get off, a young man (clueless and tipsy) staggered backwards on her left foot…yes, she was wearing sandals. However, stepping off the bus made it all go away…
It was a hot muggy day and she dreaded going to work. She shuffled across the street with her sunglasses protecting her sensitive blue eyes from the hot sun at high noon. Suddenly she got a whiff of those amazing lilacs on the side of the road. She had to pause briefly to take in that moment. Such a mundane experience lifted her spirits and added a bit of a lilt in her step on her way to the Métro.
Tonight as I read so many poems and many mention blossoms and various flowers, I can’t help but reminisce. I remember studying for exams sitting outside because it was finally warm enough, next to the house by the river. I was trying very hard to concentrate on my Latin Poetry and Prose, editing my translation of the text’s Latin poem.
“I am the poet of the poor, because I was poor when I loved; since I could not give gifts, I gave words.” Ovid
the river breeze skims through Ovid’s poem scent of lilacs