SOMEWHAT WITTY RHYMES IN THESE UNUSUAL TIMES
Old Town
Watch the slow-moving snowbirds. Brake for the excited spring-training fans.
Hailing from homes with cold winter climes, it’s the place to warm visiting lovers holding hands.
Snap a group picture, Stroll the streets of the town.
In search of a stiff margarita, some chips and salsa, an outdoor patio to lounge.
But not far from the shops of t-shirts and pastel-tinted kokopelli pots.
There’s a land older than history that fills my thoughts.
Step foot on a trail. Climb a camel-backed rock.
Amaze in saguaros and ocotillos and wildflowers. There’s plenty in stock.
It’s my address, my desert, my town, my open space.
My destination for fun, my time out, my quiet place.
It’s not where I’m from, but it’s where I choose to be.
Scottsdale is my forever home, where you’ll find me.
In the Alley
In the alley, no one cares if you’re rich or poor.
In the alley, no one cares if you’re unabashedly blue or red to the core.
In the alley, no one cares if you’re white or black.
In the alley, if you got shoes and a ball, someone’s got your back.
Getting along is simple when you have a common goal.
Pray there’s no split as you start your roll.
Grab a lane, throw the ball and knock down ten pins.
Give the opponent a high five and count your wins.
Curve into the pocket, throw it straight, get your mind in the gutter.
Step in the alley, and leave behind your brain’s clutter.
It’s not the place for swank, bluster, or gloat.
No one cares which party’s candidate got your vote.
In the alley, who you are is built on strikes and spares and putting in your time.
In the alley, there’s no place for ill will or discord or alienating chime.
In the alley, your handicap is the cross you bear.
In the alley, you may have differences, but there’s more you share.
In the alley, the politics of the pins is the story of the day.
We’re all here together, now let’s get along and play.
Scottsdale in the Summertime
Living’s not easy in the summertime.
Air so hot it burns my eyes.
Broiling pavement that cooks my feet.
But like the cactus wren who sits in the shade, I know I can handle the heat.
Do the triple digit temperatures scare you?
Are you slathered in sunscreen and swathed in billowing gauze?
Because I’m not frightened of glare or sweat?
I know those relentless rays are just the cause.
The less than hearty leave town for a cooler retreat.
Like the Palo Verde trees, I know I can handle the heat.
Sunscreen, shades, a wide-billed straw hat.
Quiet streets, empty restaurants, a jump in the pool.
I relish the long, hot days.
No, I’m not a fool.
Summer in the desert isn’t relentless. It’s undeniably sweet.
Like the coyotes and cottontails, I know can handle the heat.
Monsoon storms and air scented with creosote.
Blowing winds out of nowhere and red clouds of dust.
With a loud clap, the sky lights up.
Thunder and lightning and a strong sudden gust.
Summer in the desert is exciting, the weather’s a treat.
Like the native people before me, I know I can handle the heat.
Quiet Are the Streets
Quiet are the streets by day.
It seems the illness frightened all away.
I’ll brave it, cloaked by a mask.
When will this end? Who’s to say?
The future seems vague, hazy, and unclear.
When venturing out causes such fear.
Between these four walls, I contemplate.
How good health has never been more dear.
I read the headlines, calculate the stats.
Could this really have come from bats?
Yet, the reality remains clear.
Friendships should be limited to online chats.
Isolation can be lonely, sad, and dark.
But there’s plenty more.
What’s in store.
I’ll live for.
85254
A community with an undeniable personality clash.
A confusion of location that spawns plenty of backlash.
Between the bustle of the 51 and Scottsdale Road.
You’ve entered the enigma, affectionately called the magic zip code.
Is it Scottsdale? Is it Phoenix? No one knows.
The realtor says it’s Paradise Valley, a city with fancier clothes.
The border is uncertain, the boundaries unclear.
When you call 911, you’re not sure who will appear.
My water bill is from Phoenix. My address is squarely Scottsdale.
Is this planned confusion, an oversight, a city planning fail?
All I know is that the 85254 is where I reside.
With sprawling ranch houses, a friendly neighborhood horse, and community pride.
There may be some confusion, an identity crisis at play.
But, it’s a special location with a magical zip code, and where I want to stay.