I walked down a path
of sparse dying grass,
lined on one side by white lilac blossoms,
and bordered and bounded by a wall on the other.
and the sun lay low in the pale early sky.
I walked the path
of rare green grass,
and promised upon my return to pluck
a white lilac blossom and send its scent to you.
and the sun glittered glass through glistening leaves.
I walked along the path
of dying, greying grass,
and as I scared the darkness from shadows,
their images shrouded the white lilac blossoms.
and the sun shaded shadows at the summit.
As I approached the path's end
where the grass grew over the dusty ground,
I remembered the white lilac blossoms.
But where I searched for one not one was found,
so I turned to return unfulfilled.
I walked down the path
of dead dusty grass,
the thick evening air permeated
by the perfume of invisible white lilacs.
and the sun sunk beneath the purple dusk sky.
