Lilacs in September

I wonder if we’re losing a cultural interest in memorizing literature and poetry and other words of meaning. Sure, there are arguments that verse through popularized music and karaoke tv shows and hip-hop are our modern versions; but still–I can’t help but think that in past less frenzied ages (or I’d like to imagine so), there was a stronger belief that being able to speak and quote crafted language, to bring past wisdom in language into immediate context, was something essential to our education, to our sense of place in the world and to our way of communicating with each other.

Seeing that we’re nearing the end of September, here’s one poem that I’ve always really liked.. and one that I try my best (though sadly, can only manage an approximation of..) to keep to memory.

Lilacs in September by Katha Pollitt

Shocked to the root
like the lilac bush
in the vacant lot
by the hurricane–

whose black branch split
by wind or rain
has broken out
unseasonably

into these scant ash-
colored blossoms
lifted high
as if to say

to passersby
What will unleash
itself in you
when your storm comes?