Like Magic

There’s magic in the desert,
winter becoming spring,
presto, change-o,
feeling like summer,
abracadabra,
wildflowers amid the cacti,
snowbirds on the wing.

The town’s becoming ours again,
like days long past,
when only Angelenos came,
and then just for the weekend.
Not like now, so many Canadians
and their loonies, but they depart,
rushing home for their medi-care.

No need to shop at seven-a-m,
we can take our time about it,
like during the real summer.
No need, either for those shirts,
you know the ones,
with “local” for a logo,
timeshare hawkers off to Mexico.

Closer to the heat now,
pretty soon we’ll button down,
but not yet. This is prime time,
not quite Easter, still room to
pretty ourselves up for the last big holiday,
but summer lurks, like a beast,
just around the corner.