There’s magic in the desert,
winter becoming spring,
presto, change-o,
feeling like summer,
abracadabra,
wildflowers amid the cacti,
snowbirds on the wing.
Townies feeling it’s theirs 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,
they can take their 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 real heat now,
pretty soon they’ll button down,
but not yet. This is prime time,
not quite Easter, still room to
pretty things up for the last big holiday,
the Memorial one,
but summer lurks, like a beast,
just around the corner.
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