Ironwood Blossoms

Ironwood blossoms

Fragrant after spring time rains

Victim of summer

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

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Palest Of Blue Skies

Palest of blue skies

Streaked with a whisper of white,

Sun blistering every surface.

 

Mountains scorched naked

Contrast with heaven

While blow dryer hot winds

Offer little relief.

 

Uninhabitable would this land be

Were it not for man’s interference,

Damming up the rivers

Turning arid earth to green.

 

Glorified by hollywood westerns

But in reality, this must have been like Hell.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Hell On Earth Has Come

Hell on earth has come

Scorching both sand and pavement

Sonoran summer

 
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

NOTE: As I post this it is 103 degrees F and we have not yet reached the hottest part of our day yet. The projected temperature by Saturday is slated to be 118 degrees F.  Summer has arrived in Arizona!

Wave of Heat Rising

Embed from Getty Images

 

Wave of heat rising

Into the blue clear abyss

Summertime desert

She’s made inhabitable

By man’s ingenuity

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Flowers Erupt

Flowers erupt from ancient granite

Butterflies float effortlessly as if on a cloud

Hummingbirds drink of sweet sweet nectar

Caring not if of hand or nature’s bloom

How odd in this hellish landscape

The thriving and blossoming of such beauty

Living harmonious amongst rattler and scorpion

Such contradictions, these unlikely bedfellows

Each with their own Divine purpose

Who are we to question this perfection

Perhaps this is the model for man to live by

A lesson that has been before us for eternity

But we were too blind or too arrogant to see

.

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Though Fall Has Returned Home

Though fall has returned home

The hot summer sun still beats upon my furled brow.

The desert does not take kindly to the change of seasons;

Preferring to redden and blister the flesh ‘til left no recourse,

This has always been her way.

Her bleak landscape sparsely dotted with cacti and scrub brush,

Inhabited by venomous creatures big and small.

Her song is that of the coyote howling for her lost love,

His bones bleached white by the fire, laid waste amongst the sands.

Still even Hell must succumb to God’s will

Though not without fighting ‘til its dying breath,

Taking holiday until it is invited back in three seasons time.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~