Maricopa

 I love the palm trees wrapped in rings
of white lights to make every day feel like
a celebration. I love the walkers,
the joggers, the dogs walking dragging
their humans down hot sidewalks
and peeing on rock yards.

I love warming up my jeans
as I lie back by the pool in the beginning
of January. And listening to golf carts
rumble by and laughter around the putting
green as I study the intricate designs of my
veins as the sun shines through my
eyelids.

I love the mountains, silhouettes against
cloudless skies. Herds of wild horses
and reservation casinos. I love the grocery
stores with awnings to shade cars, open house
signs and lines of houses with rounded doorways
and textured walls.

I love games of volleyball with Brigitte
while floating on a pink pool noodle.
Listening to music in silence late at night
with Josh or talking and talking on a walk
with my mom. I love the meals at Jack in the Box
or Carl's Jr. and watching a constant stream
of football or basketball games with the whole family,
including the dog, sitting on a wrap-around couch.

I love Maricopa.

(We just got back from a week-long vacation in Maricopa and I already miss it so I decided to write a short poem about time spent there.)