early summer, late at night
pleasant sweet-smelling air
clouds veiling a half-lit moon
Scorpius crawling up the sky
tree-hid birds awake chirping
lone dog barking in its yard
startled stray cats darting
crickets playing insistent songs
quiet of people gone to bed
mellow breezes gently stirring
damp-grass lawns subtly cooling
street lights too brightly illuming
saguaro blooms softly glowing
—Terri Guillemets
Poetic words flow much better in pleasant climes—
Springtime and autumn, more friendly for rhymes
Winter’s good too, we self-reflect well in cold times
But blazing summer melts words & numbs minds!
—Terri Guillemets
Some weeds are nourishing, and some medicinal;
Some are beautiful, colorful, and downright flowery;
And yet others, even those that pop up one fine morning
as the tiniest innocent young sprouts of green —
are relentless, run riot, and are one hundred and ten percent determined as @#!% to @#!% up your @#!% yard if it @#!% kills the @#!% both of you!
—Terri Guillemets
segmented,
fermented,
demented.
—Terri Guillemets
entry in my beer tasting journal for Huss Brewing Co.’s Papago Orange Blossom, a delicious Arizona vanilla mandarin wheat ale
We live in an Arizona desert town
where winter is brown and green
and summer is green and brown
with 300 annual days of sunscreen
our autumn’s unreasonably warm
and springtime is mostly too hot
here we live for every rainstorm
and the seasons—well, they’re not.
—Terri Guillemets
Yellow.
Freaking.
Everywhere.
—Terri Guillemets
I drifted into a summer-nap
under the hot shade of July
serenaded by a cicadae lullaby
to drowsy-warm dreams
of distant thunder…
—Terri Guillemets
P.S. Thank you to everyone who let me know about USA Today and King Features Syndicate using this poem for their “Cryptoquote” on July 5th. It is quoted as: “I drifted into a
late June, monsoon — kaboom!
patter, splatter, fat drops gather
splats, taps, windowpane raps
wind whips, swish, whish —
summer’s rumbling thunder
flash, crash, lightning dash
plash, splash, sky unlashed!
—Terri Guillemets
Dawn spreads her wispy pink angel wings over the morning.
—Terri Guillemets
All other seasons in Phoenix are just hyphenated summers:
—Terri Guillemets
In Phoenix, Jack Frost doesn’t nip — he just tickles.
—Terri Guillemets
Winter in ‘Zona is springtime
Spring is summer askew
Summer is torturous hellfire
Autumn is summer part II
—Terri Guillemets