The Dead Confused by More Living

The sun feels like an obligation
In any cloudy, rainy climate—
Sun! Quick! Take advantage while it lasts!

That desert spoiled you with hot boredom,
Days of cloudless blue from end to end.
Hid all you pleased. Stayed inside all day.

Came out in the twilight with the bats
When it cooled. Regular as that,
Rarely capricious. Unscheduled mists,

Sudden thunderstorms just past midnight,
Or just when all’s gone still on the lake,
Didn’t happen in desert. Thirst, yes,

But you got used to it. Abundance,
After years of dry, feels confusing,
Even anxiety inducing.

Waterfalls thunder next to the road.
The ground is always spongy and green.
Here’s the sun! Do something! Gone again.