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Kim Addonizio
Monsoon Season
Here beside the enormous
silence of the mountain
the birds of Arizona cross on their errands
and the heat swells like an edema toward the clouds
darkening all afternoon.
The great herds of rain are set loose
to surge over the many-armed saguaros, the spindly mesquite
in the parking lots of restaurants and nail salons,
thundering toward the college stadium and military base
and the institutional rooms
where I want to believe
the very old switch on
like forgotten appliances and turn
their faces to the window,
tangled in the cords of memory, suddenly
electric and speechless with joy.