birds
and chimes
and everything green
on the cusp of
almost too hot,
but still tolerable
-Phoenix in
the spring

within the heat
and city streets,
I sit under familiar trees
-in a residence
of busyness
and people jams
and city blooms-
their shady leaves
spread wide
reach high
offering cool
sanctuary

painted skies
they call to me
fluorescent pink
soft lavender
muggy blue
and sweeps of breeze,
that sweep the heat
away, up, off
sonoran’s saffron
chimneys

a tiny square of
yards and dogs
and friendship
old and true,
each time I’m here
I find relief

each time I come
-to valley of sun-
I leave with
something
golden,
warm,
renewed