Whenever I think of lilacs, I think about the story my father told me that is depicted in my poem "The Lingering Scent of Eternal Junes." Lilacs rarely bloom as early as April where I live, unlike T. S. Eliot's home state of Missouri. (I lived in Missouri during my childhood, but it would never feel like home. More akin to my own waste land. But, this is a poetic life theme for another time.) Lilacs are one of my favorite flowers, and we tend to see them bloom at the end of May and early June. Because of my father's story and because my paternal grandfather was born in June, I titled the poem as I did. I chose this poem for this post because of