Lilacs are special flowers for me. I grew up with three shades of lilac bushes around our house. They come in lilac-lilac, deep purple and white and smell ever so slightly different, or so I imagined. T.S.Eliot’s poems made an early impression on me and I appreciated his use of lilacs evoking the wild, mystical, and ecstatic. Recently, I have found Ted Kooser’s lilac poems. The California Lilac, or ceanothus is not the same as my Back-East lilacs. It is itself, a beautiful California native beginning to blossom now in San Francisco. I have planted some in my yard, and the park near my house has a large grove, stand or grouping of these bushes that are tall enough to be low trees. These are the setting for my poem. Enjoy the Spring!

What Did the Scrub Jay Notice?

Blue-purple haze of the California lilac blazes.
Its flowers are lit by rays of bright sun
shifting through Monterey cypress branches.
Bees loudly buzz the small bouquets of flowers,
randomly bumbling their way between.
A scrub jay hops from branch to twig, scolding.
She stares at me, shiny black eyes defiant.
I wonder if she knows her head, shoulders and tail
are saturated in the exact same blue-lavender?