Some days are                                 golden and sunful,

Orange painted toenails in watering holes—

Some             downpours and missing umbrellas,

Holding jackets above flaming halos,

 

But most are stuck between

And fighting just to breathe.

A rain most anticipated,

Tongues out and drying up,

Soaking up desert heat,

Full feeling and heavy smell,

Humid and dewy on plastic leaves,

Gray so-near purple.

 

I am soybeans,                            begging for nourishment.

You are cacti,                               hidden preserves.

Oasis, oasis;

Where are you?