It must depend on
when the monsoon
rains arrive—or is it
a host of other factors
The summer of ‘21
swaths of bright tiger
apricot poppies this
desert rat had never
met before, popped up
They were everywhere
on the Tanque Verde wash
and on the banks
Friends in the know
could point and name:
Arizona Poppies
Even more magical—
little butterflies in matching
creamsicle color camped out
expertly camouflaged
as just another petal there
The Orange Sulphur
Prepare to be amazed
delighted, tickled
when you bend to get
a closer look, and one
of those perfect petals
takes fairy flight right
past your curious peepers
Poem & Photograph by Lisa Periale Martin
Lisa Periale Martin is a poet, writer, librarian, mariachi aficionado, and former farmworker. Her writing is steeped in the essence and wonder of the Sonoran Southwest. Claw and Blossom, Plants & Poetry Journal, RockPaperPoem, and Harpy Hybrid Review have published her work. Two recent poems are featured in a Chax Press chapbook, POG 2021.