This nostalgic poem is a celebration of spring and remembrance of good times spent growing up with my cousin in Tucson and riding our bikes in Sabino Canyon. What scents or places bring back memories like that for you? Any like poems? Any criticisms?
On Becoming in Sabino
It is a new season.
Though I was born in winter and grew
long legs in summer
orange blossoms spike the air.
It is all I can do to keep these black clothes
tied on and not hop on my bike and race to pick you up
both of us working up spring smiles and sweat
to the sweet spot on the rocks
where our feet slide into the melted snow flow of
water on it’s way to the desert floor.
Orange peels covering our grins as we
discover the hilarious dreaming writer women
we are someday going to be