ELECTION SEASON

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.

CAUTION

by David Chorlton

Arizona is reporting the highest rate of new coronavirus cases in the United States, as the state’s governor continues to resist calls to install strong restrictive measures. With an average of 118.3 new cases per 100,000 people, Arizona has become what health officials call the latest “hotspot of the world” because of soaring case loads. —The Guardian, January 7, 2021

Through the cold and shaded

lantana comes a rush

and a buzz from

the hummingbirds

who flash their purple in the grey

morning. The thrasher

recently arrived with  a scimitar

beak moves back

and forth between the seed block and

the water while once

the Cooper’s Hawk has been

and gone from the back

wall the African

lovebirds brighten

the air with their hungry calls. The other

news is all

dark suits and hospital

corridors, interrupted by happiness

staged to sell

new cars in a time of travelling

nowhere. Ten

thousand new cases today

in the state. Meanwhile

at the pond the Vermilion

Flycatcher works

the perimeter, and Northern Shovelers

mix with the Buffleheads and Pied-

billed Grebes. Sharp-witted

and shy, the coyote

down to drink

melts his frozen pose and slips

through an open gate,

wearing each moment’s light

as a changing disguise.

David Chorlton has lived for many years in Phoenix, close now to the city's large desert mountain park. He will have a new book of older poems published this year by FutureCycle Press, Unmapped Worlds.