Thursday, February 2, 2023

by the time i get to Phoenix

she's going
to Arizona
to live, finally retiring
from her job.
somehow
she fell
in love with a hundred
degree
weather
with no wind.
apparently she likes
to sweat
a lot.
when i think of Arizona
i think
of the desert
and the bone white
skulls of animals
who couldn't take it
anymore,
collapsing where they stood,
looking for one
green leaf,
or shallow puddle of water.
you should come
and visit
me sometime,
she says.
count on it, i tell
her,
my fingers crossed
behind my back.

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