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| White-winged Dove in my Tucson yard 4-13-2013 |
I will be
gone before the White-winged Dove returns
Before the
monsoon rains scent the desert air again;
I will not
be here to see the lesser nighthawks slice through the twilight
Or hear the twittering
chatter of purple martins in flight.
I will not
see the cactus bloom this year,
painting the
desert in a riot of color in spring
as Palo Verdes
burst with yellow blossoms along tree lined streets.
There is no
way to convey this desert landscape.
You must be
here to smell the fragrance of creosote after the rains;
You have to
stand on your patio on a moonlit night and feel the desert wind caress your
legs
While the
coyote chorus sings down the canyon and calls up the moon.
You must be
here to hear the Cactus Wrens cackle on a hot summer’s day,
Or hear the
Rock Wrens trill from the mountain slopes.
I will not
be here when the white-winged dove returns to perch on saguaro blossoms,
But, I will
know they are here.
I have seen
them before and I will know they are here again—desert birds in a desert
landscape
Rich with
life and memories of things seen and done and still to be done
When the white-winged
dove returns.
~kathie
adams brown (January 28, 2014)
