Mustang Sally Takes a Vacation

Red rocks and cactus margaritas,
blue-corn tamales and my own hot tub.
For which I was so grateful last night
after bouncing the rental down
those switchbacks from Flagstaff.

But it’s the vortices I came to see,
the cloud ships and UFOs, bizarre,
I know, but so far I’m undeterred.
Though my first vortex was more
snooze than buzz—it felt surreal—

like that night we lay under the stars.
I held her hand and we could feel
the whole great earth turning under us,
careening along its orbit, steadier
than we turned out to be.
So I’ll postcard ya on what comes next,
be it little green men or prickly pear oblivion.