Sonnet for a Scrabble Lover

If love is a game,

then ours is Scrabble,

and you are the seven-letter word

that uses both a Q and a Z,

and possibly a blank,

but certainly no Y.

It’s the word

that cannot be challenged

because it defies definition

as it sits squarely on

the Triple Word Score

at the very top of the board

and wins a fifty-point bonus

for using every one of my tiles.

The Lilac Festival

The paths are crowded but

the meandering pace is calm.

Every breeze bears the intoxicating scent

of sun-drenched lilac and honeysuckle—

dizzying on this first warm day of May

when we had begun to think

the cold would never loosen its grip.

Conversations drift like butterflies

landing briefly on a stranger’s shoulder

and then flitting away to another perch.

I sit in the grass next to a stranger.

We exchange stories about our dogs—

the way we rescued them, and they us.

We laugh as they tumble and roll

in the spent petals oblivious to passersby

while we celebrate springtime and lilacs,

and dogs, and five-minute friendships

that linger briefly like the scent of lilac

and honeysuckle harmonizing

on the warm breeze.