Here beside the enormous

silence of the mountain

                                    the birds of Arizona cross on their errands

‍

and the heat swells like an edema toward the clouds

                                    darkening all afternoon.

‍

The great herds of rain are set loose

        to surge over the many-armed saguaros, the spindly mesquite

                                in the parking lots of restaurants and nail salons,

‍

thundering toward the college stadium and military base

                                 and the institutional rooms

‍

       where I want to believe

the very old switch on

                                  like forgotten appliances and turn

‍

their faces to the window,

         tangled in the cords of memory, suddenly

‍

electric and speechless with joy.

‍