It’s here so briefly…
Those precious days
when San Diego springs up purple!

When the morning mist coats the coast
in pale lilac.
Sea lavender and purple sage
line the bike path to OB.
And jacaranda trees sway in a delicate violet dance along the streets of downtown.

When the marine layer slips away
unveiling sun-drenched geraniums and bougainvillea
meandering on front-yard fences,
a bit of a breeze flaunting their facets
of amethyst and mauve
in the midday light.
When the angle of the evening sun
picks out the indigo
in the Chicano Park murals,
and the woven shawls pulled snug
on the shoulders of weary women
chatting at the picnic tables.

When May days die with the sunset’s last gasp,
of a deep, dark, purple prayer…

By June, jacaranda droppings will litter the sidewalks.
And the canyon breezes
will plead for your attention,
with parched sage breath.
And the purple fades away.

Those who come for the winter,
declare there is no change of seasons here.
Seeing only the peeling eucalyptus,
browned sea lavender,
succulents in slumber.
All dull as the Anza desert in December.

True that little that’s lush lingers
after that orgasmic burst of purple is spent.
But we, the watchers of gardens and skies,
We wait.
Through autumn and winter
we wait.
We wait.
For those brief days in May,
when the purple arrives!

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