They're too early, the lilacs,
giving off their scent before mid-May.
One year it was nearly June,
the turn of the new century,
my summer in the hospital.
The first week was confusion
and floor plans and schedules
and being late for chapel
because I got off at the wrong floor
and couldn't find my way back down.
At the end of the week,
I stood in the backyard
looking up at the blossoms
lavender and white and deeper purple
and undertones of pink.
I sat on the swing like a little girl
and breathed in the beauty
heavy and sweet
filling my head with dreams.
Did they ever smell more vivid?
That summer I misbehaved.
I smoked in the treehouse
and danced at a club
and stayed in bed all Saturday
staring at the ceiling.
In the hospital I prayed
over tiny babies
and hopeful mothers
and trying-to-be-forgiven saints
and eaten-alive sinners.
At home, the lilacs went by
the grass grew wild and sharp
and filled the air when cut,
a different weight than lilacs.
The scent of summer, not spring.
When the lilacs bloomed that year
I didn't know who I was, quite.
I wanted something,
maybe me, whoever that was,
vivid and sweet and pink and white.
Ten more years of lilacs,
and I still go out and smell them.
I sit on the swing and dream,.
discovering something more
as I lean into their fragrance.
Beautiful. This poem’s words and images linger, fragrant, in the air like the scent of lilacs… and makes my coming venture into CPE seem, strangely, a little less intimidating!
I am so delighted this year to be where there are lilacs, once again. And here too they are blooming, beautiful, fragrant and sweet! Alas, my dreams these days are more like nightmares – but I hope that to changes.
i can remember picking lilacs on my way home from school, cuz i knew they were my momma’s favorite. i came home, entered the kitchen with a fistful of purple flowers, to findy daddy home from work, sitting at the table crying and momma standing by the phone. turns out she had just gotten word her mother had died… god is good that way with the timing… so i always think of lilacs as healing some.
Love your poem. The lilacs are blooming very nicely inspite of the frosts we’ve had this week. My whole apartment complex is full of their scent. What a wondeful welcome…to just stand for a moment and smell the lilacs.
I’ve never seen a blooming lilac – or any other kind. Would love to add this to my list of things experienced before I move on…..