How I miss you, sweet blossoming desert.
How I miss those vast blue skies,
filled with dust of a distant land.
I miss your fresh warm kiss
of oranges and sunshine,
of cactus flowers
and heat rising from the crusty sand.
Oh, how I miss you, watchful towering mountains.
How I miss you wrapped in thunderclouds,
rains sweeping across the thirsty dirt.
I miss your blooms stretching to catch one drop
from the threatening sky,
each bud thriving,
knowing its life depends on you.
How I miss the long, curvy road into Saguaro,
how I miss Pima Canyon,
shaded by Palo Verde trees.
How I miss sitting atop boulders lining the creek.
How I miss that bright moon,
luna llena
and the endless sky of stars.
How I miss the drive to Camino del Norte,
and the view of the Catalinas, the Tortolitas,
The Tucsons.
How I miss Hugh Norris Trailhead,
and prancing through Pima
and venturing up Ventana
running up Esperanza
and endlessly and hopefully up and up until sitting
on top of Wasson Peak and watching the sun set,
listening to your spirit sing.
