Leveler Poetry Journal
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Driving into the Lilacs


Like anything, it had traveled a distance

to get there. Careening, coming to a stop, cradled absurdly

in the tight, reddish buds. Then, as if learning something new

about itself, it kept very still.

And like anything nightgowned, for a first time,

in purple, it liked it

and got comfortable.

Like anything indefatigable, it was not. The wheels were tired

of being wheels. And as could be expected, the flowers had grown

so thick in their beauty they needed to be shaken

to feel anything. The white branches

freaked, arranged

across the windshield like willis

in the dark. What was crushed grew more fragrant

then dropped. The roots strained

to stay roots. Leaves deepened the headlights until its lacquer

nearly pearled. Sort of amazing,

someone decided. And someone else agreed.




Courtney Kampa