by David Chorlton
 |
Photo of Cooper’s hawk by Jason Finley at Birds of Westwood. |
Midsummer heat as October begins
and a shivering cry
from out of sight signals
the coyotes’ prayer to the sun
when they give back the world
to human rule. The quiet neighbors
have begun setting out
yard signs to reveal
their innermost beliefs.
One side sings, the other
screams. Some just want
a shake-up to discover
what outlaw spirit brings
while still as thought
the Cooper’s hawk
on a street lamp against
the orange clouds has winter
in one eye and summer
in the other. Another day the heat lasts
into darkness, later
than the evening news, long after
Happy Hour is over
and midnight’s face glows bright
high above mendacity,
doubt and the choices
to be made between line dancing
at Cactus Jack’s
or voting for the silent stars.
David Chorlton moved to Phoenix from Europe back when Phoenix still had a little provincial quaintness to it. Growth applies to the good and bad qualities alike, and it isn't always easy to adjust. Leonard Cohen's famous lines help: There is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in.
