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 ~~
Dom DiFrancesco 
I have lived in the Southwest so I really resonate with this poem! Thank you!
I’m glad, it really is a beautiful part of the country. 🙂
No, summer doesn’t give up easily in your part of the world!
It does not, today…102 degrees, this morning was a bit cooler though, it was 73 at home. 🙂
102 degrees? not fair at all!
Because of my late reply, today it is only in the 80’s…absolutely beautiful. 🙂
And yet the desert has her own beauty as well.
She certainly does it really is quite amazing. 🙂