Mesquite Bush

Mesquite Bush

Herded into town
Snowbirds stampede the Wal-Mart
Like suicidal bison
Over buffalo runs
They mad-dash narrow isles
Of toilet paper, trinkets, towels

The vacationers
Become new residents
Tax-dodging sun worshippers
Hell-bent on living the good life
Playing bingo games
Black-topping desert mesas

Senior Centers
Rest atop red earthen mounds
Lost Harappan ziggurats
Containing secrets
Of ancient dead pharaohs
Lie astride dinosaur bones

Shiny hospitals
Magnets of healthy promise
Bring hoards of unhealthy herds
Senile citizens
In electric carts spin their wheels
In the desert's purgatory rays

Lush green pastures
Idyllic master-planned
Meadows replace marsh wetlands
Waiting for the birds
To return like old swallows
Follow paths to numbered flags

The town’s namesake
A lone mesquite bush watches
Shrinking sand dunes sift away
Like fine flour for pioneer’s yeast
As the cemetery rises
Like bread, waiting for dying
Snowbirds