ARIZONA, LATE MAY

The sun renders the day

          speechless. The blue

palo verde props itself

          against the blitz.
A lone Wigeon paddles
     his pond,

          course run-off, bent

on encroachment. In the distance,

          mountains,
     umbery with arguing

tuffs create

          a jaw-bone. Fluffs

of brush on the hard-pack
     enkindle

a no-man’s land

and there is snow
     in Sedona.

     There are too few days
in the world, too few

          birds left
to call out their names. Too many

burnt chariots slipping
     through the narrow slats
of articulation, lifting

     whispers of dust. Too much
mourning

          and too much.

about the author
Grace Curtis’ book, The Shape of a Box, was published in 2014 by Dos Madres Press. Her chapbook, The Surly Bonds of Earth, was the 2010 winner of the Lettre Sauvage chapbook contest. Her work is in Sou’wester, The Baltimore Review, Waccamaw Literary Journal, Blood Orange Review, and others. www.gracecurtispoetry.com.