June 30, 2015


The ceiling fan
over our bed
turns through the night,
churning air,
keeping me cool,
the hum of its motor
helping me sleep.
Another day
in the desert
is on the way,
sky turning red,
birdsong flooding our room,
the land still warm
from yesterday.
Somewhere far off,
you look to the sky,
those big, cold drops
touching your face.
I can almost
hear you say,
looks like it's going
to rain, today.