bitter bitter lilac

I went out in the evening; the foundations for life are ready. the soil is dark and wet from the rain. the cow is full, her low mooing – safe, like warm milk before going to bed. apple trees and lilac in bloom. phosphorescent whiteness, irremovable, even when deep into the dusk. like guilt.
they say the neighbor's husband died last month. it seems entirely improbable that he should never come back.
the fence is rough, but in the hollows it gets childlike smoothness. the skin of the sprouts – pliable and strong. that – yes. that's something I know. but her sudden loneliness – so entirely improbable.