Poetry: Oana Maroti
It’s May, still in quarantine, forced to stay inside.
I just woke up and instinctively opened the windows.
Birds are singing outside, in multiple styles while the wind breeze transports new smells from somewhere out here,
a fresh floral scent.
Splendid odor, it reminds me of something, just a moment I do recognize this wonderful fragrance,
Is it purple?
I sniff it profoundly, opening my lungs.
What is it, I can’t recall, ai ai ai, time lapse, neurons, please process.
More chirping going on until my brain activates to a profound search.
Still nothing clear, color, from the deepness of my memory soft shades of white and nuances of violet, petals, that’s all…
And then, the wind breeze brings back the full bouquet of flowers, oh this refreshing smell and now I know…
Lilo, Lila, like the name, like the color lila, it’s the perfume of lilac.
I didn’t know it existed in the area where I live,
I shall go find it and sniff it well while it lasts.