Arizona July 3, 2016
I
Summer morning is not delicate in Arizona
Blatant sunrise, cymbals clanging a Sousa march,
cry of a Valkyrie warrior Deserts and valleys
sizzle A roadrunner stalks an indolent
scorpion Quick attack Its beak snaps shut
II
Mid morning I walk Max down the hill
An eagle circles above, flying so high I
barely see the yellow beak, white feathers,
pure movement in a cloudless sky
III
Day unpeels like the skin of a snake,
translucent layers, revelations My senses
heightened, I am a gun dog pointing Morning
is a chorus, a blue and green ballad
IV
Pungent dry pine needles, forest afternoon
Lupine and Indian Paint Brush blossom
Squirrels scurry up trees, chattering,
scolding intruders, cause pine cones
to rustle, drop The wind susurrates
through branches, a comforting sound
V
Red-orange sunset explodes as I laze
on my porch Bats flit from the eaves,
ravens dive bomb a squirrel, attempt
to hijack his acorns The neighbor’s
beagle bays as a black cat scampers
through my yard In the distance a
train whistle heralds arrival of the
Southwest Chief from Albuquerque
Destination – Union Station, L.A.