Alien in Pima County by Joan Maiers



During a Southwest solstice,

with Jupiter

suave against the Dark Sky,

where fled is the past tense

of to flee,

a neighbor tells me how

she sings Spanish lullabies

when hiking through dark arroyos

to alert others traveling along Placita Nueva.


Some nights, guided by her syllables,

another foot traveler,

with moon as a torch

above shadows of saguaro,

can follow its compass

confirming his way

true North.

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