Palm Poem #4
Deep snow drifts remind me
Of the desert. Arid heat
Smacks a different cheek
Than the arctic wind, but still
Reminds me
Of monsoon season and the
Great swirling clouds kicking up the dust
Making sun worshipping cancer collectors
Run for cover in a flurry of flip flops
And designer bikini tops that were not made
To wear in the water... in the same way
People bum rush the grocery stores before a blizzard,
Snatching up all the bread and water and toilet paper,
As if the apocalypse were coming
In the form of a lake affect weather pattern kicking around
The East Valley like a prehistoric ice age
Millenia before we had the words
To articulate our fears.
-- Sent from my Palm Pixi