It’s going to be
96 mid-afternoon
in the low desert;
it’s April and rattlesnakes
are starting to take cover.

The sun shines bright on
my not too old southwest home;
I’m yearning for rain
and a few clouds in the sky.
There is something wrong

with you for wanting
something other than all this
sunny desert bliss,
some around the hot tub say.
I love Michigan in May.