In May I Consider My Websites
Simmons B. Buntin
My client reminds me that the April coupon
is still online, though it’s mid-May, and though
there is a white-winged dove at the feeder,
just arrived from Mexico or maybe Belize.
And that reminds me of the Mexican birds-of-paradise
fanning the backyard in yellow and red, the orange
globemallow now past prime at their rooted and clenching
toes. Beyond the wall, the scarlet ocotillo flowers
are fading to brown, lost in the arid silhouette
of the mountains seemingly painted behind them.
Which reminds me of the trail my daughters and I
hiked late last month, past aromatic creosote—
the rains lingering this winter—past slate and prickly
pear that shine like windows in the sunlight. The view
from here is, of course, gorgeous; and that
reminds me of the website I’m crafting for my neighbor’s
bed-and-breakfast, with its elegant landscaping
and utterly modern Ikea decor. They are sure to be
a hit—the square tables and chairs and atmosphere,
I mean—which reminds me of the coupon, again,
and now that it’s half past the month of May (or more)
I better get to it, as I pause at the front room’s
wide, inviting window, reminding me—as a Gila flicker
drops in—of the yard’s single saguaro, open and blooming.